


Pizza Rolls Topped With Oregano

by hazelnutcoffee365



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Abandonment, Angst, Daddy Issues, Depression, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Gay, Lunest, Lurnest, M/M, Romance, whatever their ship name is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 00:02:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 60,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11955504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelnutcoffee365/pseuds/hazelnutcoffee365
Summary: Ernest Hemingway Vega was sent to juvie almost two years ago. Now, he has finally turned 18 and is set to be released. Unfortunately, so much has changed in two years. Ernest must learn to navigate his new life, deal with a new step-dad and hopefully reconnect with the one person who truly understood him, Lucien Bloodmarch. As time goes by, they grow closer. What will come of it? A friendship or something more? Maybe nothing? Though, Ernest can't help but be reminded of that one thing that happened between them oh so long ago...





	1. Chapter 1

"Right this way, Mr. Vega."

Drawing in a deep breath, he took in the atmosphere, or lack thereof, for hopefully the last time. The security guard started to remove his handcuffs one at a time. As soon as both were off, she gave him a comforting smile. It had been quite some time since his hands had felt true freedom.

It was almost too good to be true. This had to be a practical joke. He thought that at any second, a camera crew would jump out from behind a fake potted plant or something and lock him up for the rest of his life.

Much to his surprise, that didn't happen. The security guard gestured to the double doors before him. Near the top of each door was a small window, visible from both sides. Looking through it, he could see a familiar face. The first familiar face in almost two years.

"Ernest!" his father called to him, as the security guard led him out. He stood in the hall for a second, taking in another deep breath. His father ran up and hugged him, having no concept whatsoever of personal space.

"Hugo," Ernest uttered, not quite as emotional. It wasn't that he didn't want to see his father, it was just that it had been so long, he wasn't sure what to say.

Yet there was so much he could say. There were so many questions. The most important being, "Why didn't you ever visit me?" He didn't need to get into that right now. It would come up when the time was right. For now, he was just glad to get the hell out of there.

"Thank you so much," Hugo told the security guard. She responded with another smile and a nod. The two Vega men followed her out of the facility. Once they arrived at the car, Hugo handed his son the keys and told him to wait inside. Ernest didn't protest.

As soon as he got inside the car, he blasted the radio in search for a station playing a song he knew. His father hung back for a second with the security guard, staring at the ground.

"Is everything alright, Mr. Vega?" she asked Hugo.

"I don't know. It's just been so long since I've had my son back home. I really missed him," Hugo replied.

"Well, that's normal," she reassured. "But you have nothing to worry about. Ernest is a good kid. It just takes him a while to open up."

"But I'm his father! I should be the easiest person for him to open up to."

"Ah, that's where you're wrong, Mr. Vega. Parents are the last people teenagers want to open up to. You should know. You were his age once."

"I guess, you're right. I just don't know if he'll be able to adapt. So much has changed."

"And the time away helped him grow, I promise. He's not the same kid that he was when he first arrived. Maybe the changes at home will be good for the boy. You just have to give him a chance."

"Yeah, I'm sure it'll be fine. Thanks again," Hugo said, before heading to his car.

"Oh, and Mr. Vega," the security guard yelled to him. He quickly turned around to see her waving. "Tell Ernest Hemingway 'happy birthday' for me."

Hugo waved back to her and returned to his car. Ernest was staring out the window while a popular song that he didn't know a single word to, played on the radio. Hugo entered into the driver's side and turned the music down slightly. His eyes were fixed on his son who chose to stay silent. Little did his father know that his window was cracked and he could hear the entire conversation.

"So..." Hugo began, starting the engine. Ernest turned away from his father, still saying nothing. "I missed you."

Still no response. Ernest was never one to give into small talk or any talk for that matter.

"I bet all your friends are excited to see you again."

Another failed attempt. Ernest rolled his eyes further than he believed possible. Didn’t his father know? He didn't have any friends. This wasn't news. It was something Ernest had accepted for a long time now.

"Are you hungry?"

Their eyes met. Ernest was impressed. His father remembered the one thing that could get him to talk. Food. This tactic had 100 percent accuracy. If food was on the line, Ernest would do anything for you: clean your house, be your personal servant for a day, sing Bad Blood with you at karaoke; he'd even kiss a guy for food.

Well, actually. Never mind. Pretend you didn't hear that last one.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" He finally uttered.

"Pizza?"

"Pizza."

About ten minutes later they arrived outside Pete's Piece a' Pizza. Ernest did a double take because the tiny hole in the wall pizza place he once knew had become a larger, fancier hole in the wall pizza place, that apparently 'now delivers.' Well, that's what the sign outside said. There was another sign next to it that read "Help Wanted," Ernest didn't pay much attention to that one.

"What happened to this place?" Ernest questioned, a little pissed off.

"Yeah, I know. It happened a few months ago. The place started to get more popular so the owner decided to renovate and make the place a little more accessible," Hugo told him.

"That sucks. Fucking gentrification can suck my dick!" Ernest shouted.

"Ernest!" Hugo whispered, shifting his gaze around. "I agree."

The two of them entered the building and Hugo told Ernest that since it was his 18th birthday, he could have however many slices he wanted. He even offered him a full pizza. Luckily, he declined.

Hugo insisted on staying at the establishment to finish their food. With the new remodel, you could actually sit down and enjoy your pizza. Ernest was having a love/hate relationship with it. He knew there would be changes in his life, he just wasn't prepared for his pizza experience to be different.

The pizza itself was still amazing. Ernest couldn't help but smile after every bite; the first time he's smiled in a long time. He couldn't remember the last time he was this happy, or this willing to have a full-on conversation with his dad.

"How's it tasting?" Hugo asked, mid-bite.

"It's just as great as I remember," Ernest answered, wearing the biggest smile.

"I know. The scenery may have changed but the food is still as greasy and deadly as it was before."

"And we could have enjoyed this greasy and deadly food at home. Why did you want to eat here?"

"Well, I mean, why not? It would be a shame to waste these nice new seats made with real mahogany."

"How do you know it's mahogany?"

"I don't, actually," Hugo admitted, letting out a slight chuckle. "I just figured it's something people say. Like 'that's real mahogany,' ya know?"

"I mean, it's not that nice. Our couches at home are nicer than this," Ernest recalled. He looked at his father who wasn't maintaining eye contact. "Unless you are some neat freak now that won't let me eat in the living room anymore."

"No, son. That's not it."

"Then, what is it?"

"Actually..." Hugo thought for a second. "That is correct. I am a neat freak now. I'm going to need you to wash your hands several times before we leave!"

"What, really?" Ernest exclaimed, looking down the hall. "They have a bathroom now too?"

After reluctantly using the new bathroom at Pete's, the Vega's headed back to their humble abode. Ernest wasn't sure what to expect next. He still didn't quite believe that his dad had suddenly become a germaphobe. All he really wanted to do was get some rest in his own bed. That's all he had dreamed about for so long.

And it looked like he would still be dreaming.

Out of nowhere, his father took a left turn that was very out of the ordinary. Ernest may have been away from home for a couple of years but he still knew the way to get there. He was seriously confused at this point. Where was Hugo taking him?

A few minutes later and the car had parked in front of much larger house than expected. Ernest couldn't help but wonder where they were. He followed his father up the front steps to the door that his father apparently had the keys to.

"Hugo, where are we?" Ernest finally inquired upon entering the building.

"This is our house," Hugo replied, taking his coat off and placing his keys on the end table. "I was going to tell you earlier but I wanted to keep it a surprise."

"But this place is huge! How can you afford it? What'd you do with all my stuff? Why aren't you answering any of my questions?" Ernest interrogated.

"Because you're not giving me a chance," Hugo responded. "Breathe, son."

"How long have you had this place?"

"For about a year."

"Which one's my room?"

"It's upstairs. The first one on the right."

Ernest was already half way up the staircase before Hugo could finish his sentence. He swung the door open to see all of the stuff from his old house. The room looked almost exactly the same as he could remember, but this placement of his bed next to his dresser wasn't correct.

"Hey, Hugo! You put my bed in the wrong place!" Ernest called to his father. There was no answer. He exited the room and started down the stairs. "Hey, Hugo-"

The boy stopped in his tracks once he saw a familiar face head through the door. Hugo greeted the other person with a hug and a kiss. A child ran in behind the two of them. Ernest wasn't sure what the hell was going on.

"Ernest, I have something else to tell you," his father stated, clearing his throat.

"What's up, Ernest?" the other man greeted. "It's nice to see you again, little dude."

"Hi Craig, what are you doing here?" Ernest questioned.

"Well, that's another thing I wanted to talk to you about," Hugo told him.

"What do you mean?"

"First, why don't I go make your favorite?"

"You have pizza rolls?"

"Bro, didn't you two just eat?" Craig queried, seeing the pizza sauce at the corner of Ernest's mouth.

"Hey, there is always room for pizza rolls!" Ernest countered.

"Pizza rolls!" The child from before screamed as they ran by.

"And who is this?"

"Oh, you remember River," Craig reminded him of the baby that he used to unsafely jog with in a papoose.

"Shit, tiny baby isn't a baby anymore," Ernest laughed. "How long has it been?"

"Um, sorry. If you couldn't use that language around her. She's at that age where she starts to repeat things," Craig kindly whispered to him.

"Oh, right," Ernest responded, zipping his lips.

"River, you may not remember because you were just a baby, but say hello to Ernest Hemingway," Craig told his daughter.

"Ernest Hemingway," she said, hugging his leg.

"Sup," Ernest mumbled, not knowing exactly what you say to a child. "Hey, didn't you have more kids?"

"Oh, you mean Briar and Hazel."

"Yeah, the twins. What are they up to?"

"Oh, they're at practice right now. They are the co-captains of the softball team. They're being scouted for a lot of college teams."

"Softball? Oh, the lesbian sport."

"Umm..."

"I'm kidding. It's cool that they're into physical activity. It's not my thing, but they can do it."

"The pizza rolls are done!" Hugo announced from the kitchen. "Why don't we all take a seat on the couch?"

Ernest grabbed the tray of pizza rolls and took a seat at the far end of the couch. Craig and Hugo sat together on the other end, holding hands. River had gone to the bathroom because she apparently needed to take a "boom boom." It was silent for a few minutes. Ernest obviously wasn't going to be the first person to talk. They had something to tell him, they would be the first to speak. Plus, he had his mouth full of pizza rolls, so he couldn't really say much.

"Dude, why don't we just tell him?" Craig uttered.

"Tell me what?" Ernest asked, between bites.

"Okay, so Ernest, as you can see, Craig and I-"

"Your father and I are in love," Craig interrupted. Hugo leered at him.

"Oh, um..." was all Ernest could get out.

"I know this is somewhat of a surprise-"

"How long has this been going on?" he interrupted his father.

"For a little under two years," Craig responded.

Ernest's eyes met Hugo's for a second. His father quickly looked away, shifting uncomfortably. Another minute went by and it was dead silent. The only noise came from River running around playing with her toys. She came up to Craig and jumped onto the couch. She looked over at Ernest.

"Ernest Hemingway!" River chimed.

"Don't call me that!" Ernest yelled.

"Ernest!" Hugo spoke up.

"So, is this what you've been doing for the past two years? Is this why you've been too busy to even visit me once?"

"Son-"

"No! Fuck you!"

Ernest stomped out of the room and up the stairs, still holding his tray of pizza rolls. He slammed the door to his new bedroom, and leaped onto his bed. Clutching a body pillow and trying to hold back tears, he stuffed his face with more pizza rolls. Before he could completely let himself slip into the abyss of darkness and depression, he turned to the only person that could truly understand his sadness.

"Feet don't fail me now," Lana Del Rey sang in Born To Die, the opening track of Ernest's favorite album of the same name.

By the time his favorite track, Dark Paradise started he heard a knock on his door. Of course, it was his father. He didn't budge. Ernest was in no mood to discuss anything with his dad right now. The only person he wanted to listen to at the moment was Lana.

"Ernest, may I have a word with you?" Hugo asked upon entering the room. There was no response. "Ernest."

He stayed in place, continuing to ignore his father. The only sounds he made were little hums to each song.

"Ernest Hemingway Vega!"

"What? What do you want?" Ernest shouted, adjusting his positioning to see Hugo.

"You know what you did. That was extremely rude. You need to apologize to Craig!"

"So I get punished for this but you're allowed to ditch your son for two years!"

"Ernest, I know it wasn't right for me to do. I was just very overwhelmed," Hugo explained, taking a seat at the edge of his son's bed. "You had already been in and out a few times."

"Yeah, but those were shorter periods of time. This was two years! Two fucking years of being alone and having nobody!"

"I wanted to see you, but Craig-"

"What about Craig? This has nothing to do with that meathead!"

"Craig reminded me that I've bailed you out enough times and it was time you learned from your mistakes."

"Oh, did he? So Craig thinks he knows everything."

"He got into a lot of trouble when he was younger and he learned his lesson. Now he's turned himself around."

"So he's the reason you never visited?"

"Ernest, he was there when I needed someone."

"Oh please, we all know you only like him because he's ripped."

"Excuse me?"

"'What are your turn-ons?' 'Muscles.'"

"You went on to my DadBook page? That's private information."

"No, it isn't. Anyone can access it."

"That's not the only reason that I'm with him!"

"Hugo, please. Nobody can you see actually ending up with a guy like him and getting married and shit," Ernest growled.

"Engaged, actually," Hugo corrected, displaying his ring finger. Ernest's jaw dropped.

"You can't be serious."

"I was going to tell you about that when the time was right."

"Of course."

"Regardless, Craig said this experience would shape you and I really believed it did. I spoke to that security guard and she told me-"

"I know what she told you. I heard the whole thing."

"Great, then you heard all of the nice things she said. Son, we all believe in you."

"Well, that's too bad because I'm the screw-up. I'm not meant to make anything out of my life. I'm not good at sports and I'm too dumb for college!"

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is, Hugo. I'm just going to be a stupid loser, sitting on your couch forever eating up your pizza rolls!" Ernest rambled, shoving another pizza roll in his mouth.

"Okay, I'm putting my foot down. I will not allow my son to say such horrible things about himself!" Hugo yelled. "I also will not allow you to sit around the house doing nothing! You are 18. You're officially an adult, so if you're not going to school then at least get a job!"

"No."

"Ernest."

"How about we go back to me apologizing to Craig?"

"Very funny."

"No, honestly. I'll do it!" Ernest pleaded, getting out of his bed. "You were right. I was a little harsh on him."

"We're not done talking about this."

Ernest noticed a reluctant smile on his father's face. Sometimes he knew the exact things to say to get his dad to shut up. The two of them exited the room, Hugo walking a few paces behind him. Craig was on the living room floor, doing some complicated exercise. Once they made it to the bottom of the staircase, Hugo cleared his throat to get Craig's attention. He was about to say something when Ernest bolted for the door.

On his way out, he snatched his father's keys from the end table where he left them. Hugo and Craig had no time to react, Ernest was already out the door. Once inside his father's car, he let out a deep sigh. His breathing was cut short when he saw Hugo in his peripheral.

He started the car up and drove off as fast as he could. There was no set destination in his mind. He was just wanted to keep driving and forget about every shitty thing in his life. This was probably the worst birthday on record. Sure, he was finally let out of captivity and he had become an adult, but at what cost?

The world he once knew was gone. Everything was different. Even his home, the place he felt safest was different. His new residence wasn't near anything he recognized, so he continued to aimlessly drive. At this point, he had no choice. Ernest hoped to see something even remotely familiar.

It was getting dark and he was starting to near the essential areas of Maple Bay. That old movie theater where he discovered his favorite movie was in view. If he remembered correctly, that meant they were close to that pizza place that he and his father went to earlier.

He pulled into the parking lot and turned off the car. For a few minutes, he sat, wondering what his next move would be. In the back of his mind, he thought of his father. Perhaps he called the cops and reported his vehicle stolen. Ernest knew that it was a possibility, but he hoped Hugo would understand his pain. Then he'd be locked up again, but this time it would be big boy prison.

Not like anyone would care. His father didn't give a shit the first time. Why would he care this time? He looked over at the newly designed pizza shop. Of all the changes, why pizza? His eyes shifted over to the 'Help Wanted' sign. The thought of his dad wanting him to get a job made him want to die.

The growling of his stomach interrupted his thoughts. Those pizza rolls never proved to be enough. Unfortunately, he didn't have a dime to his name. He searched the car for any loose change. His hunt proved successful, finding a few dollars and some coins.

He exited the car and headed inside Pete's. Upon entering, he could hear the owner complaining to one of the workers. It was against his nature not to eavesdrop.

"Where is he?" the owner asked, pacing. "We have an order that needs to go out."

"I don't know, I tried calling him," the worker told him.

"And?"

"No answer."

"What are we going to do? I need a delivery boy," the owner exclaimed, stomping away. He stopped once he ran into Ernest. "Hey, what are you doing?"

"Um, pizza?" Ernest replied, a bit confused.

"What's your name?"

"Ernest Hem-, Ernest."

"Ernest, nice to meet you. I'm Pete."

"Okay."

"Do you have a job?"

"No."

"Do you have a car?"

"I guess."

Pete ran to the back really quick, leaving Ernest alone in the middle of the shop. He came back after a minute and threw a black shirt and hat at him. Both items had the "Pete's Piece a' Pizza' logo on them. He was honestly bewildered about what had just happened.

"Ernest, you're hired!"

"Um, okay."

"I need you to deliver this pizza to this address," Pete demanded, handing Ernest a large pizza and a notepad. "You got thirty minutes."

Pete quickly ran to the back, leaving Ernest alone once more. There was no time to analyze anything that just occurred, all Ernest knew was that he had to deliver this pizza in half an hour. He ran to his car, put on the uniform and entered the address into the GPS.

It only took him around ten minutes to find the place. Interestingly enough, the address was a tattoo shop. It was called "Bloodmarch Tattoo and Body Piercing." Ernest couldn't help but think that the name "Bloodmarch" sounded familiar. He couldn't quite place it, though.

Getting to the door, he wasn't sure if he was allowed to go in. It was a tattoo shop, and people usually just waltzed in if they needed something. He decided that it would be safer to knock.

"Oh, the pizza's here! I'll get it!" A voice called from the other room. For some reason, he thought the voice also sounded familiar, but there was no way he could know these people. Nobody he knew worked at a tattoo shop.

After another minute, the door swung open to reveal someone that Ernest knew very well.

"Lucien?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for giving this a read. I'm such a big fan of the game and Lunest is a couple that I'm really passionate about. I'm so glad that I get to share this with all of you.


	2. Chapter 2

Ernest stood in the doorway, frozen for what seemed like a century. How could he forget Bloodmarch was Lucien's last name? There was a whole mix of emotions going through his head, the most prevalent being joy. An emotion that he wasn't too familiar with, but seeing someone like Lucien brought back so many positive memories.

Lucien was the only person that he could really call his 'friend.' Of course, he wasn't too sure about that now, but when the boys were younger, they would spend so much time together that they had to at least tolerate each other. They'd get into all kinds of trouble and just laugh at all of the grownups who got upset at them.

The world was theirs. Rather, Maple Bay was theirs. Taking over the world seemed like too much work. This was Ernest and Lucien we were talking about here.

Unfortunately, things changed between them when Lucien graduated. He was a couple years above Ernest and with him being the only person close to a friend, he was alone. Their paths never really crossed again. Ernest didn't want to think that Lucien was blowing him off because he was still in high school. That he thought he was cooler now that he was an adult. No, Lucien didn't think that way. He didn't care about what people thought about him. That's what Ernest liked most about him. That, among many other things.

Ernest couldn't help but wonder why Lucien never visited him. Somebody had to have told him about Ernest's incarceration. It didn't happen too long after they stopped talking. Then again, so much happened around that time. Perhaps, Lucien couldn’t keep up. Or maybe that's why Lucien never visited him, because of what happened.

"Ernest?"

He jolted back to reality and met Lucien's eyes. He was staring at Ernest as if he was expecting him to say something. They continued to stand there for a few more seconds of silence. He wasn't sure what he should say. He had never really reunited with someone before. Especially someone as close to him as Lucien. Ernest obviously wouldn't say that. He wasn't really one to show feelings or preference toward anyone or anything. His mode of operation was to suppress. He could see Lucien still waiting for him to speak up.

"Sup?" was all that could come out of his mouth.

"It's nice to see you, too. Man, it's been so long!" Lucien cheered, pulling Ernest in for a hug. He didn't protest, in fact, there was this feeling of familiarity in Lucien's arms. The hug was going on for too long, though. Ernest quickly pulled away, composing himself to look like he didn't care again. Slouching, check. Eyes wandering around with disinterest, check. Indifferent Ernest was back on. Lucien still keeping a hand on Ernest's arm. "How long has it been?"

"A couple years, I guess," Ernest responded, studying Lucien's hand. There was a small tattoo of what looked like the head of an alien. His eyes followed that tattoo to another one and another until he reached the top of his arm. Lucien was covered in ink. It made sense, he appeared to work at a tattoo shop. Ernest imagined himself with tattoos for a second. How his father would react, how he would never let him leave the house. It was the ultimate form of defiance.

"Damn, it's been that long. Well, you're looking good," Lucien spoke again, breaking Ernest's daydream.

"Uh, thanks." Ernest was never one to take a compliment. He wasn't sure how to respond. Saying thank you meant that you accept the compliment, but did that make you narcissistic? Did you agree with them about how good you look? Are you supposed to compliment them back? What if you can't find something to compliment about them? "I, um... like your tattoos."

"Thank you, I did them myself."

"Wait, really?"

"Ha, no. I'm not that talented, but I am apparently good enough to own my own shop."

"You own the place?"

"Yep. I also live here. That's my apartment upstairs."

"That's sick. How did that happen?"

"Well, I used to work under this chick, Thorne. Right after high school, I became her apprentice because fuck college," Lucien laughed. Ernest saw this as an invitation to laugh as well. "And I was apparently really good. Thorne owned the shop for a really long time and she was ready to move out of Maple Bay. Small towns weren't her thing. I disagreed because I feel like there are too many assholes in big cities, or maybe I just don't like people."

"Agreed. People suck."

"So Thorne started preparing for me to take over. Now for the past few months, the shop has been mine and I haven't burned the place to the ground yet."

"There's still time," Ernest joked. Lucien let out another laugh.

"Fuck, that reminds me. Remember when we were young and we used to set like everything on fire?"

"I wouldn't say everything. There were just a few toilet fires."

"A few?"

"Okay, I had a problem."

"You were quite the arsonist, but that was forever ago. I'm sure you don't play with fire anymore."

"Ha, yeah."

Ernest was silent again, shifting his gaze to his feet. He could tell now that Lucien didn't know, or he was playing it off like he didn't. It's not something to bring something up the first time you see someone. You have to give them a false sense of security before delving into the heavy topics.

"It's been really cool catching up with you. I've talked to almost no one from high school since graduation. Once I got this job, these four walls were basically the only thing my eyes have seen," Lucien told him. Ernest gave him a slight smile. In a twisted way, it made him feel better about Lucien not talking to him. He didn't talk to anybody, so it wasn't anything against Ernest, right?

"Hey, where's that damn pizza at?" A voice called from inside the shop. Ernest couldn't help but think that this voice also sounded a bit familiar. It wasn't entirely impossible. Lucien was living proof of that.

"I got it! Shut the fuck up!" He yelled back. "Sorry about that. I should probably get the pizza."

"Uh huh," Ernest responded, not really listening. His thoughts were too fixated on the voice. It was a female voice that he swore he's heard before. She sounded like she may have been younger than him.

"Ernest," Lucien uttered. Ernest snapped out of it and met Lucien's eyes. "The pizza."

"Right, one large half Pepperoni, half Veggie Lover's pizza," Ernest announced, pulling the pizza out of its bag. "I'm guessing the veggies are for you. Some things don't change."

"Guilty. I'm still a vegetarian."

"And I'm still a carnivore."

"Actually, my dad and I tried going vegan for like a day," Lucien proclaimed. "We just couldn't do it."

"I'd never be able to do it. It's lame," Ernest grimaced.

"Hey, don’t say that. Vegan people are strong!" The two of them exchanged glances and then busted out laughing. "Okay, and they're kinda lame," he whispered.

"Lucy! Where's that pizza? I'm dying over here!" A different female voice shouted, also ringing a bell to Ernest.

"I told you not to call me that!" Lucien exclaimed. He turned back to Ernest. "I should probably get back inside."

"Got a party going on in there?"

"Oh no, it's a slow night so I have some friends over doing a photo shoot."

"A photo shoot at a tattoo shop?"

"Well, the shoot is on body art so it only makes sense."

"That's pretty cool that you have friends that are into that."

"Yeah, wait. I think you actually know them," Lucien said, gesturing down the hall. Ernest peered inside to see a tall dark-skinned girl with tattoos all over her arms posing against a wall. Her hair was up in a small afro and she sported some stylish eyeglasses. She looked so familiar to Ernest, but he still couldn't put his finger on it. "Maybe I should call her over here. Carmen-"

"Carmensita?" Ernest interrupted, recognizing the once tiny and nerdy daughter of the local coffee shop guy. "That can't be her."

"Believe it."

"Don't you have to be 18? I just turned 18 and I remember being older than her."

"With a parent's permission, you can get them. You've seen her dad, he's covered in them."

"That's true. Um... Was there someone else here? I thought I heard another voice."

"Oh, you remember Amanda, right?" Lucien inquired.

"Amanda?" Ernest echoed. His heart felt like it stopped beating. His breathing was getting heavier and now he wanted to be anywhere else than here.

"Yeah, she just got back from university. She's a photographer for Val Small's company. Do you want me to let them know you're here?" Lucien asked, heading back inside.

"Ya know what? I should be getting back. My boss has me on a time crunch," Ernest explained, nervously turning away.

"Wait!" Lucien called to him. Ernest turned to see him walking up. He wasn't sure what he was about to do, but he hoped it had nothing to do with the girls inside. Lucien started digging in his pocket. "I forgot to pay."

"Oh, right," Ernest remembered, pulling out the receipt. "That's gonna be 10.95."

"Here," Lucien said, handing him a 20. "Keep the change."

"Thanks."

"One more thing," Lucien said, grabbing the receipt. He pulled out a sharpie and wrote something down. Then he handed it to Ernest. It was a phone number. "We should keep in touch, or whatever."

With that, Ernest headed off. His face couldn't help but display a smile. He wasn't sure why. Lucien never made him smile that much when they were kids. In fact, the stupid things they did kinda made him mad. Perhaps, this was a good sign. A positive step into the future. At least now he could say he had one friend.

Making his way back to the pizza place, his boss was ready with more assignments. For the rest of the night, he was driving around making deliveries. It was good because that gave him a chance to explore everything and remember the town. Plus, the tips were pretty great. Ernest never realized how satisfying it was to actually earn money. He thought the greatest rush came from stealing cash out of his father's wallet. To be honest, that wasn't exactly off of the table. It had been a while since he last stole from his dad. Who was to say that he wouldn't do it now for old times' sake?

By the end of the night, Pete had offered Ernest the job as a permanent position. With all the money Ernest made in one night, it would be stupid of him to turn that down. Especially, because Pete gave him the perfect schedule. He did deliveries at night giving him all day to sleep in and he also got two days off each week. Ernest was starting to get why people worked for a living.

After the shift, he wasn't quite ready to go home and face his father. With his newfound knowledge of where everything was in Maple Bay, Ernest decided to leave himself alone with the night. There weren't many places to go and chill due to it being so late, so what better place to be alone with your thoughts at night than the park?

He parked the car just near the exit in case he needed to make a quick escape. The rest of the parking lot was pretty empty except for a beaten old truck a few spots down. Over by the swings, Ernest could see the possible owner. It was a young guy, probably a few years older than Ernest. Looking over at the guy, no memories popped up. This was good because he was in need of not knowing anyone right now. Ernest was all maxed out on blasts from the past.

The other guy was sitting on the swing, facing the woods. Ernest could smell the cigarette he was smoking from his car. He headed over and sat on the swing next to the guy. Upon sitting, he realized how creepy it must be for some random guy to come over and sit next to you in a park at night.

It was too late; the damage was done. Ernest's butt was already planted firmly on the swing. The guy looked over at him, seemingly unbothered. He just continued to smoke his cigarette. Ernest wasn't the type to initiate a conversation so he just awkwardly stared at the guy, hoping to bum a smoke from him.

The stranger noticed Ernest's unconventional way to get a human's attention. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a half pack of cigarettes, gesturing for Ernest to take one. Accepting the offer, Ernest did so and placed it between his lips. He leaned over so that the guy could light it for him. They nodded once the tobacco was lit, both going back to their own little world.

Taking in the first drag, Ernest was already over it. Why did people like doing this again? He wasn't sure. Though it wasn't his first cigarette, it was his first since becoming an adult. 18 was the legal age in this state to smoke cigarettes, and with this newfound freedom, he didn't get the appeal. It tasted horrible, it was proven to be bad for your health and it's something other than pizza rolls that you spend your money on.

The biggest reason he smoked when he was younger was probably to piss his father off. Doing something without the intention to ruin his family life was never in the question. Perhaps, this was a time for Ernest to reflect. A lot of the pain and strife in his relationship with his dad was because of his need to act out and rebel to get attention.

"Whoa!" Ernest uttered, tossing the cigarette to the ground and smushing it with his sneaker. This was getting too introspective for him right now. He wasn't ready to deal with his demons just yet. Cigarettes weren't supposed to give you feelings. The guy next to him looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. Ernest stood up and headed for his vehicle. "Uh, thanks for the smoke."

Without hesitation, he entered the car and figured it was time to head home. Exiting the park, he saw a familiar street name. There was time for one last detour. A few minutes later he found the old cul-de-sac where he and his father used to live. He saw Craig's old house too and the creepy manor that Lucien's father probably still lived. Then he stopped in front of his old house. The memories quickly flooded back of when he lived there. Sure, not all of them good, but it was a time when he had control. In his new life he felt powerless.

He stayed for a few more minutes before fearing that someone would call the cops on him. With one last look at his old life, he turned the car around with his new home as the destination. Of course, it was a new place so it took a few wrong turns before he could remember the address. On his way back, he caught sight of the gas tank and figured that one more stop wouldn’t hurt. Plus, his dad would probably be happy that he filled the car up.

Leaving the gas station with no other stops, Ernest finally made his way home. His new house stared at him as he turned off the car. Slowly getting out, he glared back at it. The house seemed completely dark as he headed for the door, so it was more than likely he wouldn't run into any overbearing parents.

"Where have you been?"

Okay, so his theory was wrong. The living room was soon filled with light. Hugo was sat on the couch facing his son. Ernest wasn't too surprised, so he continued forward. Hugo stood up to try and block his son's path. He repeated his question, this time adding a 'young man' at the end.

"I got a job," Ernest responded, tossing his work hat to his father.

"Oh," Hugo replied, with a less convicting tone.

Ernest hadn't stopped walking. He headed right up to his room and closed the door behind him. Every event of this day had tired him out. Sleep would be his only solace. He quickly changed out of his work clothes and into his much more comfortable pajamas.

Before he could go to sleep, he had to finish listening to the album that his father so rudely interrupted. He walked over to his radio and resumed play. While he was up, he noticed a strange object next to his radio. It looked old and kind of broken so it wasn't some weird gift from his father. Apparently, Ernest had obtained the object before today. There were no memories of it coming back, but he figured if the old Ernest kept it, why shouldn't he do it now?

It wasn't something he needed to lose sleep over. It was time to hit the hay. This was easier said than done. Physically, his body was ready for the best sleep of his life, but his mind was keeping him awake. He couldn't help but think of Lucien. Why was the boy who he hadn't seen in years running around his head at night? Ernest was unsure of what it meant. He clung onto the receipt that Lucien scribbled his number on. All he knew was that he definitely wanted to see him again.

To his dismay, that didn't happen. After finally falling asleep, his busy week began. Ernest was working for Pete's the next few nights while using his mornings and afternoons to catch up on rest or some boring reality show. His father had worked out a schedule with him for the car. Since Ernest worked at night and Hugo taught during the day, it was perfect. Ernest chipped in for gas so there were no complaints from his father about allowing his son to use it.

Finally, Ernest was off and tomorrow would be his first day off. He wasn't sure exactly what to do because he never had an official day off before. When he didn't have a job, every day was a day off, but now that he was working, he saw things a little different. Unfortunately, he had nobody to talk to. It was just home and work. He never got time with Briar or Hazel either because they were always at practice.

He had to stop himself from driving back to Bloodmarch every night. No matter how much he wanted to see Lucien again, he didn't want to be creepy. Though, Lucien did provide Ernest with his number, thus basically giving him an invitation to talk to him. Ernest had no way of contacting him. He hadn't seen a cell phone in years and he wasn't going to use the landline to call Lucien because nobody cool talked on the phone anymore.

Upon entering the house, his father was up waiting for him again. Oh great, what could he want now? Ernest didn't have time for this. Well, he did but if his father was about to yell at him for some mundane thing, and he'd rather stare at a wall than listen to his dad. Hugo approached him and handed him a package.

"What is this? I didn't order anything," Ernest mumbled.

"Open it," Hugo commanded, with a warm smile. Ernest shrugged and decided to open it. His eyes widened upon seeing what was inside.

"You got me a new phone?" Ernest asked, excitedly.

"Yeah, I figured you needed one now that you're an adult," Hugo responded, lowering his voice. "I also don't know what happened to your old one."

"Cool."

"You deserve it, son. It's nice to see you turning your life around."

Ernest wasn't going to RSVP to this father-son love fest, so he exited the conversation right after that. Maybe it was the excitement for the new phone or the fact that he still didn't entirely forgive his father for leaving him alone all that time.

Once inside his room, he began to set up his new phone. Halfway through, he realized that he didn't have anyone to text. Then he remembered the phone number that Lucien wrote down. Ernest had carried it with him everywhere during the past week. He pulled it out of his pocket and typed it into his phone and saved it under 'Lucien.'

He wasn't sure if he should text him right away. Looking over at the clock, it was getting late. His thoughts kept going back and forth between doing it now or waiting until tomorrow. Would he be asleep? Maybe his tattoo shop is open late and he's still awake? If he was sleeping then would he still get it in the morning? Do text messages disappear overnight?

He decided to bite the bullet.

**Hey itz Ernest.**

No response.

He waited a few more seconds.

Still nothing.

He wondered if maybe he said something wrong. Did people use correct punctuation now? Perhaps, saying more than a greeting would warrant a response. Ernest didn't want to over text or seem too eager, so he decided to be simple and play it cool.

**We should hang soon.**

There was still no response after a few minutes. He decided it was time to turn in for the night. There was no use in waiting for him to reply if he wasn't awake. Ernest would hopefully receive a text in the morning.

_Bzzt._

His head shot up as he saw Lucien's name light up on his phone. He grabbed the device and opened the message, hoping that the feeling was mutual. The biggest smile stretched across his face once he saw the response.

**You busy tomorrow?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I just wanted to say thank you so much for coming along on this journey with me. I promise that future chapters will be updated more frequently. I'm super excited to share the rest of this story with you!


	3. Chapter 3

The bright sunlight fought through the window and assaulted his face. This meant it was time to get up and be a normal person. That would be if he was ever asleep. Ernest had spent the whole night thinking about what today would be like. Scientifically, a good night's rest would have better prepared him for the day, but he was too excited to sleep.

Today would be the day that he and Lucien were to hang out. Just the two of them. The last time this happened, both boys were in high school causing trouble, as usual. No longer did the question of why Lucien stopped talking to him those many years ago live in his head. Ernest had his answers. Lucien just got really busy. What with, apprenticing under a prestigious tattoo artist and then taking ownership of the shop for himself not long after, it made sense that he had no time for friends.

Yet, the thought still lingered about how close he had gotten with both Carmensita and Amanda, of all people. For one, Carmensita was still in high school, so Ernest's theory about Lucien not wanting to hang out with teenagers was thrown out the door. Though, Carmensita being covered in a dozen tattoos could be the reason that they see each other so often. Plus, all of the neighborhood kids being so close in proximity when they were younger could give them that sense of closeness.

Another thought that loomed in his head was how Lucien and Amanda also seemed to be close. As far as Ernest knew, Amanda had left to a far-off university, never to return. She and Lucien were never really friends when she moved to Maple Bay. Why was she doing photoshoots in his tattoo shop?

Ernest decided to shake those thoughts from his head. They weren't important right now What was important was today. He and Lucien were important. No other person factored in.

He wondered what they would do today. Where Lucien would take him. Ernest could only think of a handful of places where they used to hang out. None of them being of any interest to him now. He hadn't seen a single commercial in years so he wasn't sure what movies were playing. When they were younger they would sneak into the theaters after the movie started to avoid paying because at that age they obviously didn't have an income. Also, because it was rebellious and that was their thing.

Lucien probably had something interesting and elaborate planned. Well, at least Ernest hoped that he put some thought into it. To be fair, it had been less than 12 hours since the plans were made. Not much was said besides the picking up part. Ernest gave Lucien his new address and he was to pick Ernest up around noon. After that, he was to take him out for the most fun day of his life. Actual words that came out of Lucien's mouth, or from his fingers.

Ernest peered over at his digital clock to see that he still had a few hours. No matter how excited he was, it was important to get even the slightest bit of rest before going out on the town. He closed his eyes in the hopes that his body would cooperate and allow him to drift into dreamland.

Unfortunately, it was mission impossible. Ernest was still obsessing about the events that would transpire. This time his thoughts were exclusively on his choice of clothing. Last time Lucien saw him, he was wearing his work uniform. Not the most appealing thing to wear. Then again, why did Ernest care? He had no time to wonder why he cared, he just did and for some reason, he wanted to impress Lucien. He needed to look his best. Lying in bed wouldn't help with that.

Without hesitation, Ernest hopped out of bed. His first stop was over to his stereo to play some tunes because there was such a thing as 'getting ready music.' This time he decided to just let the radio play whatever mainstream hits to fill the air. He was sure he wouldn't recognize a single song and even though the stuff on the radio wasn't always the best, he hoped something would stick.

While next to the radio, he noticed that object from before. He picked it up to examine it because he was still unsure about how it even got there. Feeling it, he determined that is was made of clay, but Ernest didn't remember taking any art classes. Or any classes, for that matter.

What the fuck was it? Maybe some sort of animal. It was so old and shabby for that the features were indiscernible. Whatever it was, it's leg had fallen off or broke. Ernest could barely remember acquiring the item so there was no way he could recall how it came apart.

He set it back down and switched his focus to his appearance. Ernest had tried on about a dozen different outfits, all with a different level of appeal. He figured that being too dressy wasn't right. It would be awkward if Lucien just took them for a picnic at the park. Ernest would be wearing a suit and tie while Lucien just wore skinny jeans and a band tee.

On the other hand, Ernest didn't want to just show up in shorts and a tank top. Being underdressed was just as bad as being overdressed. Then again, would Lucien care? Was he the type to ridicule you for wearing the wrong outfit on a dat... friend hang?

Ernest had gone back and forth for an hour and finally decided to just sport his usual orange hoody and blue jeans. It was the safest option and what Ernest felt most comfortable wearing.

Setting the clothes on his bed, he caught a whiff of something that could only be described as foul. It was himself. Thinking back, Ernest couldn’t remember the last time he took a shower. There was no better time than the present.

He exited his room and headed for the bathroom. Upon reaching it, the door wouldn't budge. He knocked on it to see if anyone was in there. There was no answer.

"Hello?" He called, knocking again. He placed his ear against the door to try and hear anything. Suddenly, the water was running. He knocked again. "Is somewhere there?"

"Sorry! Ocupado!" It was one of the twins.

Ernest rolled his eyes and wandered downstairs. The house was huge so there had to be at least one more communal bathroom. His expression brightened up when he saw an open door. He rushed over only to get it slammed in his face.

"Hey!" He exclaimed.

"You snooze you lose!" The other twin sneered. This one was most likely Hazel.

Ernest still wasn't used to living with girls yet. Especially with how long they take in the bathroom. He didn't have all the time in the world. Sure, there was still over an hour until he needed to meet up with Lucien, but who knew when the first twin would finish?

What he could do was use the time to take a power nap so that he didn't pass out later. He didn't. He needed to be ready for when the bathroom was vacant. Personal hygiene was paramount at the moment. Ernest headed back upstairs to the first bathroom, assuming that Briar arrived a while ago, she would be out soon.

Close to an hour later, the bathroom door swung open and Briar exited. Ernest was too busy leaning against the wall, half asleep to notice. "Wake up!" she shouted, splashing him with the water dripping from her hair.

"Wha?" he uttered, standing up straight.

"Your turn," Briar giggled, entering her room.

With an evil stepsister out of the way, Ernest was finally able to clean himself. Would he have to look forward to more bathroom fights with the twins in the future? He wasn't ready for this life. Mostly because Briar used up all the hot water and he had to wait even longer for the shower to warm up. Where were the girls going anyway? It was Sunday. As far as Ernest knew, Craig hadn't converted Hugo to Christianity. Was Craig even Christian? Not unless he counted the gym as a church.

Once the hot water was back, Ernest quickly took his shower and sprinted back to his room to get dressed. His digital clock read: 12:14, which meant it was past noon and Lucien was already waiting outside. He unplugged his phone from the charger, expecting messages, but he didn't see anything. That was a good sign. Lucien was probably still getting ready as well.

A few minutes later Ernest was fully clothed with his wallet, keys, and phone in hand. He was ready to take on the day. As if on cue, his phone buzzed. It was a text from Lucien telling him to be outside in five minutes. Heading out of his room, he forgot about one last obstacle. His father.

Making his way down the staircase, he saw Hugo and Craig cuddled up on the couch. Ernest didn't have time to tell his dad he was going somewhere the night before because of how late the plans were made. When he was younger, he would never tell him that he was leaving at all. He would just go, but that was when they were still living in the cul-de-sac. Everything was much closer. Ernest wasn't sure about where he was going or how far it was. This wouldn't be as simple as just walking out.

He tried it anyway.

"Ernest, is that you?"

He was so close to the door. It wouldn’t be that difficult to open it and jet. "Yeah."

"Are you going somewhere?" Hugo asked, facing his son.

"I'm hanging with a friend," Ernest quickly responded. He didn't want to use names considering who the person was. Hugo knew quite well what trouble they used to get into.

"Oh, a friend. Do I know this friend?"

Ernest didn’t know what to do. Make up a fake name? Would his father ask more questions? "Yeah, you do. It's Lucien."

Well, there went that. Hugo's face seemed to go through a slew of different emotions. Ernest was ready for his father to tell him that he couldn't go. So much for a fun day with Luci-

"Okay, have fun."

His jaw almost dropped to the floor. Ernest was ready to argue with his dad. They'd fought enough that he already had the perfect words in the perfect word order. It was strange. Would Ernest have to get used to the fact that because he's older, his father was giving him more freedom? He had no time to analyze any of this. Lucien would be driving up soon and he didn't want to keep him waiting.

Hugo had gone back to snuggling up with Craig, which meant that Ernest was free to go. Accepting this, he exited the building to see Lucien pulling up to the curb. His top was down. Rather, his car's top was down.

"Hey, sorry I'm late. I overslept a bit," Lucien told Ernest upon entering the vehicle.

"It's fine. You said around noon. 'Around' technically counts till 12:59," Ernest joked, finding his place in the passenger seat. He noticed Lucien's arm now extended behind him, placing his hand on the headrest. Ernest could feel his heart beating slightly faster. Lucien started backing up his car to get back onto the street, but not before their eyes met.

"You look tired."

"Uh, yeah. I didn’t get much sleep."

"I feel. Well, considering we both need the energy to stay awake, let's stop for some coffee first?" Lucien suggested.

"Sure, I like coffee."

Okay, confession. Ernest had never had coffee before. It just wasn't something that he felt like he needed. Mostly because it wasn't something that would piss Hugo off, but now Lucien wanted coffee. He also offered to pay for it, so Ernest was all in.

About ten minutes later, the boys were parking outside of The Coffee Spoon. The car ride had been mostly silent, except for some music that Lucien was playing. It didn't sound too bad either. He sneaked a peek at some of the artist names. There was LIGHTS, The Neighbourhood and Melanie Martinez. He would definitely check them out later, but in the present, Ernest wanted some communication. Lucien wasn't initiating it, which meant it was up to Ernest.

"So, did you not get much sleep last night either or do you usually sleep in till noon?" He decided to ask.

"No, I usually wake up earlier. Noon would be fantastic though, but my shop opens at 11 during the week," Lucien answered. "I just had a really late client last night."

"Was it like a big tattoo?"

"Huge."

"What did they get?"

"Get this, so the client was an old woman, I think her name was Nancy or something."

"Sounds like a crazy cat lady," Ernest laughed, as the two exited the vehicle.

"You don't even know," Lucien replied, opening the coffee shop door for him. They shared a smile.

"Was the tattoo cat related?" Ernest questioned, as they got in line.

"Not only was it cat related but the woman wanted a collage of all twelve of her cats on her back," Lucien continued.

"On her back? How old did you say this woman was?"

"She's turning 69 this week. She said that she didn't care if her skin was old and wrinkly and then she yelled 'YOLO.' It was hilariously stupid."

"Well, that's a nice gift for turning 69 since she's never getting another kind of 69 in her life," Ernest whispered. Lucien chuckled, before covering his mouth once he started getting dirty looks.

"Oh hey, Lucien," the cashier greeted as the boys made it to the front. Ernest didn't know why, but he wasn't too fond of the way the guy was looking at Lucien. There was also something about him that was familiar, but he couldn't place it. The green hair should have been a dead giveaway, but he just couldn't think of his name.

"Hey, Pablo. I'll just get my usual," Lucien responded, still locking eyes with Pablo.

"Alright, one Mocha! At The Disco. And for you?" Pablo asked, shifting his gaze to Ernest.

"Get whatever you want," Lucien said to him with a smile. As mentioned before, Ernest had never had coffee before, so he wasn't sure what to say.

"Same thing as you," he muttered.

"Okay, so two Mocha! At The Discos. That'll be-"

"It's on the house," a familiar voice interrupted. The boys looked up to see the shop's owner, Mat Sella standing before them. His arm was wrapped around Pablo and the two were standing much closer than co-workers were supposed to.

"Oh, hey Mat. Thanks, but you don't have to-"

"I insist. You're one of my best customers," Mat commented, locking eyes with Ernest. "Also, you brought Ernest. How long has it been, man?"

"Um, I don't know. A few years," Ernest mumbled, as Mat came over and hugged him.

"Where have you been?"

"Oh, ya know. Around."

"What do you boys have planned for today?" Mat inquired.

"That's a good question," Ernest replied, staring at Lucien.

"It's a surprise," Lucien told them.

"Alright, I won't press any further," Mat said grabbing the drinks from Pablo. "Your coffee is ready."

"Thanks."

"It was nice seeing you again, Ernest."

"Right back at ya."

"You okay?" Lucien asked him, once they were outside.

"Yeah, Mat just seems different. He used to be like super shy and now he's all handsy and stuff."

"He's changed a lot over the years, thanks to Pablo."

"Speaking of, didn’t they seem very touchy with each other."

"Well yeah, why wouldn’t they be?"

"What does that mean?"

"Oh, you don't know? Mat and Pablo are together."

"And this is common knowledge?"

"Yeah, dude. Everyone knows."

"Wow, well that certainly gives a new meaning to sleeping with the boss."

Lucien stifled another chuckle as the boys headed for their next destination. Ernest was still in the dark about where he was being taken. What he did know was that this Mocha! At The Disco thing was amazing. It was a wonder why he hadn't tried coffee before. In the future, he would definitely be visiting The Coffee Spoon again.

Not long after, Ernest could see a large crowd of people, as well as a number of attractions. There was a Ferris Wheel, the lingering smell of fried foods and a billion screaming children. He knew where they were. This was the Carnival. Ernest couldn't decide what he was feeling. Was Lucien serious about this being the surprise?

Lucien parked the car soon after and put the top of his car on. Ernest remained silent, still unsure if he was happy about where they ended up. Lucien seemed excited, so it was only fair that he needed to be too.

"So, what do you think?"

Ernest didn't know how to respond to that. Did he want him to say what he really thought or lie? "It's the Carnival."

"Yeah, I know it's kind of childish, but it could still be fun. Especially, now that we don't have to spend every second with our parents."

"True," Ernest recalled. "The last time I was here was with my fathe-"

He stopped before he could finish that sentence. It wasn't something that he wanted to think about.

"You mean, buttoned-up, stick up the ass English professor Hugo took you?"

"No, not him."

"Well, I haven't been to the Carnival since high school. I've always seemed to miss it the past few years because of work and this is the last week so I wanted to check it out, if that's okay with you."

"Yeah, it's fine. It'll be fun. We could terrorize the little kids and throw up on the roller coaster."

Lucien gave him an approving smile as they wandered toward the entrance. Once they made it to the front of the line, Ernest reached for his wallet. Lucien placed his hand on Ernest's as if to stop him. Their eyes locked and Lucien gave him a look as if to say "don't worry, I'll pay." He wasn't in any position to protest saving money, but he was definitely willing to return the favor.

Inside the Carnival, there were more people than Ernest thought even lived in Maple Bay. He wouldn't be surprised if he ran into a few people from his past. Which kind of worried him. Lucien was so stoked and Ernest didn't want to ruin his happiness by trying to avoid certain people.

"So, what did you wanna do first?" Lucien asked, looking around. Ernest didn't know how to respond. There were so many options. Rides, arcade games, food.

"I, uh..."

_Grrrr._

His stomach seemed to be taking command now. Lucien gave him another smile as he searched around for the stands that sold greasy fried food. Disregarding all of the places that sold meat upon meat, it looked like he was having trouble.

"You hungry for some nachos?" Ernest questioned, seeing that Lucien couldn't decide.

"I'm all for nachos," Lucien agreed, following Ernest. The two of them set off for the nacho stand, having to wait in another long line. Approaching the front, Lucien reached for his wallet, but this time Ernest stopped him.

"Ernest, you don't have to do this."

"It's the least I can do. You bought my ticket. I just wanted to return the favor."

"That's not how it works. I'm the one taking you out," Lucien stated, handing the cashier the money. Ernest stayed silent, wondering if he would continue that statement. Taking you out on what? Was this a date? Or a totally platonic friend hang? He didn't know what he wanted to actually hear. It was probably better that Lucien stopped there.

Sharing the large nachos, both Lucien and Ernest continued to float around the Carnival, each with one hand on the bowl. Food wasn't allowed on rides, so they tried finishing it quick, making casual conversation between each bite. Sometimes it would be a dig about something a random parent was wearing, then it would shift to talking about how horrid it would be to take care of a bunch of crying children. There were a few times when Lucien had to snap Ernest back into reality. He didn't realize the stress that Ernest was under. First, he was still super tired. The coffee was beginning to wear off. Then, combine that with the fact that he was still afraid of bumping into someone he knew.

The chips and cheese had soon diminished and the boys had started to feel the heat. Literally. Ernest took this time to hate himself for deciding to wear a hoodie. He could see the sweat on Lucien as well, and to be honest, it wasn't a bad look.

"Ah, fuck. Is it super hot today or is it just me?"

It's just you. Or at least, that's what Ernest wanted to say. "Yeah."

"I have an idea," Lucien said, leading Ernest toward a tall water ride. It was called the Log Flume and it was basically a mini roller coaster where you sit in logs and get wet. By water. The water is what makes you wet. Get your mind out of the gutter.

The line had stretched around the ride and close to the next. It would seem that everyone else had the same idea as them. Ernest didn't mind. This would mean that he and Lucien just got more time to talk. Being at a carnival, he knew the conversation wouldn't get too deep. It wasn't that he wanted to have a meaningful discussion, but the warmth of Lucien's smile and the openness he provided, made Ernest infinitely more comfortable. He felt like he could say anything. He wasn't going to, but it was always an option.

With the wait still being long, the boys decided to reminisce about the old days. The finest being the Cask of Amontillado moment. Neither of them could really remember what happened in the actual book but what they did in the basement was still pretty hilarious.

Interrupting their laughter, the ride operator gestured to them to take their place in the next log. Ernest couldn’t wait for this ride. The heat was becoming even more unbearable. At this rate, he would have to take his hoodie off. That was if he wore anything under it.

Sadly, for him, the log was big enough to fit more people. He and Lucien had to share it with a few little girls. Since they were bigger, Ernest and Lucien scooted to the back of the log. The two boys were squished together in the back with hardly any leg room. Ernest could feel Lucien's legs wrapping around. This was the closest they'd been ever.

Soon the ride began, and Ernest could feel himself slipping backward. He and Lucien were now even closer. A few more seconds in and everybody was already soaking wet. His focus was now on how cold the water was. They hadn't even been down the first drop and Ernest was now regretting it.

After the ride, the boys were drenched. It wasn't the best feeling, but it was better than melting. Plus, with the sun being extra scorching today, they'd dry off in no time. Lucien handed Ernest his bag to hold really quick. Before Ernest could say anything, Lucien lifted his shirt to wipe his face.

For some reason, Ernest's eyes seemed to linger a little too long on Lucien's chest. He couldn't help it. There was nowhere else to look that was quite as appetizing. It wasn't that Lucien's body was in any sort of amazing shape. He wasn't nearly as ripped as Ernest's soon-to-be stepdad, but it wasn't a bad view. A few more tattoos were revealed as well.

"Ernest Hemingway? Is that you?"

He was too distracted to register the voice or to correct them for using his extended name. Lucien finished wiping his face to see who had come up to greet them. Ernest now turned his attention over to the mystery person.

Standing before the boys were two plump gingers. One of them much older than the other. Ernest could only vaguely remember Brian and Daisy Harding. Brian, Daisy's father was always trying to compete with everyone else and had the annoying habit of always talking about his daughter. Daisy, on the other hand, was super modest and didn't like to broadcast her accomplishments as much.

Well, at least, that's how they used to be. Ernest couldn't help but feel like with all of the other changes in Maple Bay, the people might be different too. With Mat as an example, changing from the shy and reserved music lover, to a social, handsy music lover. Perhaps, Brian had changed too.

"Father, it's just Ernest. He inordinately despises when someone addresses him by his full name," Daisy corrected.

"Oh, forgive me. I'm not great at remembering things. Not like you, Daisy. You already know so many things, how do you keep all of this information in your head?" Brian responded.

There it was. Still braggy, still annoying.

"Hey, Brian," Lucien greeted. "What's up?"

"Oh, I'm just enjoying my last week with my little girl before she goes off to school," Brian told them. Ernest and Lucien exchanged irritated glances. "I'm not sure if you kids heard  
but my Daisy got into MIT."

"MIT? You mean the college? Isn't she like 14?" Ernest interrogated.

"She graduated high school early. Four years early to be exact. She's one of the brightest young minds, they say," Brian boasted. Ernest could almost feel Lucien roll his eyes.

"Father, it wasn't that astronomically immense of a deal. Stop making me sound more astonishing than I am. You're mortifying me," Daisy interjected.

"I know what some of those words mean," Ernest uttered, not realizing how dumb that sounded.

"I don't. Was that even English?" Lucien added, humoring Ernest. They laughed together as the Hardings stared at them in confusion.

"Well, anyways. It was nice seeing you two. We should be off. MIT is waiting," Brian spoke up.

"Okay, bye," Ernest retorted.

Daisy waved as her father whisked her away. At this point, Ernest was at his max for running into people from his past today. The day was meant to be shared between him and Lucien. So for the rest of it, that would be his focus. To have the best time possible with Lucien.

And it worked.

After the not so happy reunion, the boys set off to have a stress-free day at the Carnival. Things were looking up as they were able to avoid almost every line and get on each ride. They went on the roller coaster a few times before Ernest felt like he was going to vomit.

To keep his stomach at bay, they decided to try their hands at the obviously rigged carnival games. Lucien was absolutely determined to win Ernest an oversized stuffed frog. Why a frog, you ask? Well, a stuffed bear was way too cheesy. Everyone does that. And the only other option was a hippo, and no one likes hippos. So, frog it was.

After many failed attempts, Ernest couldn't bear to see anymore. He also didn't need a stuffed animal, Lucien had already shown that he cared enough. Well, Ernest didn't say that last part out loud.

Darkness was beginning to fall so the only illumination of the night belonged to the festive lighting. It was a beautiful sight and Ernest was much happier that he got to experience this with someone he didn't hate. Coming to the carnival was a great idea, on Lucien's part.

There was still one more ride that the boys hadn't been on and now was the perfect time. It was the Ferris wheel. Now, if you were to approach Ernest and ask him, he would tell you otherwise, but he wasn't too fond of heights. Not afraid, just not fond of, but Lucien really wanted to, so he went on it.

Another confession, Ernest had never been on the Ferris wheel before, so he couldn't really say he was scared of it. In fact, as soon as they got on, his anxiety was gone. Perhaps, it was Lucien's cool, calm and collected attitude to the ride or maybe it was the amazing feeling of looking down on everyone else.

Their car had stopped at the very top of the wheel as the operators let out the patrons on the bottom. "Wow, this looks amazing," Ernest said, staring out over the Carnival and into the rest of the city. He couldn't see everything, but it was still a nice sight.

"You like the view?" Lucien inquired.

"Love it. I've never seen Maple Bay like this before."

"Well, if you think this is amazing, you ain't seen nothing yet. I need to show you something."

Once the ride had finished, the boys headed for the exit. Before leaving, Lucien grabbed some cotton candy to give Ernest for the road. He was keeping hush about the next location, but Ernest was more intent on eating cotton candy.

The spot was a little further than Ernest anticipated. It appeared they were going to a dark place like the woods. It kind of frightened Ernest, but he trusted Lucien enough to know that he wouldn't kill him. Especially, not after a fun day like the one they had.

The car began to slow down and Ernest couldn't seem to grasp anything familiar. They really were in the middle of nowhere. Behind them were miles of trees that seemed to lead to nowhere. It was too dark to see anything past it.

Lucien then turned off the car and encouraged Ernest to follow him. He was a bit reluctant, now thinking that this could be where he dies. There was no cotton candy left for him to hide behind so he had no choice but to accept the offer. He followed him to the hood of the car. Lucien sat on one side and helped Ernest take his place next to him.

"So, why are we here?" Ernest asked, looking back into the darkness.

"Look," Lucien muttered, pointing forward. Ernest let out a sigh, before turning around. Then he knew what he was there to see.

"Holy shit."

Ernest was completely awestruck by the view before him. Lucien had taken him to overlook the town and it filled him with a new exciting feeling. Ernest felt weightless as if he was on top of the world. He'd never seen a sight quite like this and he didn't want it to go away.

All he wanted was to stay in this moment. To stand still. To not think about the troubles and the bullshit. Not his father, not his past mistakes or the people he hurt because of them. He was here and now, with Lucien.

"This is fucking awesome," Ernest finally spoke again. "So much better than sitting at home watching reality TV like that Ice Ghost Truck shit."

"No fucking way. I love that show!" Lucien exclaimed.

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah. Amanda showed it to me."

"Amanda," Ernest echoed, shifting uncomfortably. "Wow, you two are spending a lot of time together lately."

"I mean, it's hard to escape your stepsister," Lucien mentioned.

"Stepsister?" Ernest repeated, becoming even more confused.

"Yeah, you didn't know?" Lucien questioned. Ernest shook his head. "Oh. It happened earlier in the year. Her dad and my dad got married."

"Whoa."

"You seem to be out of the loop on a lot of things."

"I don't really get out much."

"That's about to change."

They each exchanged another glance, decorating with a mutual smile. Ernest was quiet again, trying to absorb the atmosphere. When he was here, his worries disappeared. He didn't want to leave and go back to reality. He needed to be here with Lucien. It was stupid of him to think that he was going to kill him.

But to be fair, there were still so many things that he didn't know about Lucien. His new step-sibling was only scratching the surface. There was so much more. Unfortunately, there was only so much he could, Ernest was starting to feel tired again.

"So, how did you find this place?" Ernest asked, trying to stay awake.

"Oh, I came here about a year ago with my ex," Lucien responded. The word 'ex' kept echoing in Ernest's head. "He showed it to me."

"He?" Ernest's eyes widened after that slipped out. He quickly covered his mouth, hoping Lucien hadn't heard it.

"Yeah, he."

"Sorry, I just didn't know you were-"

"Gay?" Lucien interrupted. Ernest was speechless. "Well, I don't really use that word. I just like who I like. That's all."

"That's cool," Ernest commented, hoping he didn't sound like a total ass. He was frantically searching for a way to make things less awkward. "So why did you two break up?"

Yeah, that should do it.

"Uh, I don't know. He wasn't that great of a guy. He was always secretive, which he probably got from his father. He was a detective."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Things ended for a reason. I guess, it just wasn't meant to be. Maybe it's the universe telling me that there is someone better out there for me," he replied, looking over at Ernest. Their eyes once connected again, but this time was longer than before. It was as if they were having a staring contest. Ernest wondered what he would get if he won?

The night had progressed and the boys continued talking non-stop. Ernest felt completely calm and safe with Lucien. It was like he could talk about anything. They got through the "awkward ex" conversation and it only made them closer.

Speaking of closer, Ernest was growing more and more tired. He wasn't sure at what point in the night or what the topic was, but he felt comfortable enough to lay his head on Lucien's shoulder. Soon his eyes were closed and the rest of that night was history.


	4. Chapter 4

The extremely vexatious sound of the alarm clock forced Lucien out of his wonderful slumber. Wonderful being a slight stretch of the word. It would be true if he ever got much sleep in the first place. Most nights he lied awake for hours before closing his eyes and hoping for the best. When that would fail, Lucien was up all night trying out the most peculiar ways he could find to get himself tired.

  
There was no clear start date, but if Lucien had to guess, he'd say it all began happening a few months ago, around the time he inherited the shop. Since the structure included an apartment attached to it, Lucien felt obligated to occupy the space. That's when his sleep schedule started to become irregular; he wouldn't get to sleep until later each night. This proved to be a direct problem with his shop's designated opening time of 11 each day, combined with minimal sleep from the night before, he was sure it made him seem irritable and unpleasant to customers.

  
That's when he panicked, looking up any reason as to why he couldn't get even a decent amount of sleep. Scouring the internet, he found that being in new and unfamiliar surroundings, such as moving into a new home, as well as adapting to a new bed and the added stress of owning your own tattoo parlor can have a huge impact on sleep quality. With all of these factors taken into account, Lucien diagnosed himself with insomnia, and with no known cure, he braced himself for the worst.

  
Some nights were better than others, but his lack of sleep was starting to affect others and that's when it became a problem. He soon turned to pills, and no, not the kind you think. Sleeping pills, non-habit forming, totally regular, probably what your parents are using, sleeping pills. Lucien had done the hardcore stuff in high school and he'd like to think that he's grown out of it.

  
The only drawback to the sleeping pills was that they knocked you out pretty good. There were times when it seemed like Lucien would never see the light of day again, so he started using an alarm clock to make sure he woke up in time to open his shop. That's what today's issue was. Though last night's problem wasn't trouble getting to bed, it was the fact that he and Ernest stayed out a little later than expected.

  
Speaking of, Lucien couldn’t get his day with Ernest out of his head the whole night. He wasn't sure if Ernest was aware of what had happened near the end of the day. Lucien could remember it very well as if it was yesterday. Which it was.

  
Ernest had warned Lucien earlier in the day that he was super tired due to also having little sleep. It made him wonder if he also suffered from insomnia. He decided to not bring that up because showing his hypochondriac side was not sexy and for some reason, he wanted Ernest to view him as such.

  
Technically, nothing of that nature had happened between the two boys last night. Ernest had fallen asleep on Lucien's shoulder at his favorite lookout spot. He didn't take any offense to it, he knew that Ernest liked it, but it was getting late. After a few more minutes of taking in the sights by himself, he dragged Ernest back to his seat. Don't think he didn't consider carrying him all romantic like, but Lucien was a twig, he could barely carry his phone.

  
They got back to Ernest's place almost a half hour later, with him still asleep in the passenger seat. Lucien felt bad waking him, due to his sleep issues, but he also had some of his own that he needed to attend to. He decided to wake him up; his method, a bit unconventional, and something he'd never admit to doing, actually worked. Ernest opened his eyes. Then they said their goodbyes. The rest of the details being boring and just involving Lucien making his way home and taking his medication.

  
Though on his mind was the same thing, Lucien wasn't sure how Ernest really felt, hell, he wasn't even sure what he himself felt. It was all just so confusing. The moment the two made contact, every moment that he had contact with Ernest made him feel all those feelings again. Feelings that were repressed some few years ago, so were they really coming back?

  
The moment he saw Ernest in his doorway that one night, about a week ago, it was as if a supercut of the times they spent together started playing in his head. The trouble, the shenanigans, the fun, it was all there. Of course, with the good came the bad. Not every memory was all smiles and rainbows, mostly because that would be totally ironic.

  
It was clear that both boys had gone through their own changes. Things wouldn't be the same and that's why Lucien was more optimistic this time. Between those years, he had actually forgotten what happened between them, if you could call it anything. Ernest was the last thing on his mind once he threw himself into the next relationship.

  
He face-palmed, recalling the stupid decision to tell Ernest about his ex. Rule number one on a date, don't ever bring up your ex-boyfriend and don't bring said date to the spot where your ex-boyfriend took you and kissed you for the first time. Lucien reminded himself that it wasn't a "date" but rather a completely platonic "friend hang."

  
Another confession, Lucien wasn't one to let go of things. No, not in a holding a grudge kind of way, but in the way that he is truly a hopeless romantic. In seeing his father find love, exposing who he really is to the one man who fully accepted him, even for his totally boring IT job, it was adorable and inspiring.

  
With his hopeless romantic status, he still hadn't let go of the aforementioned ex. So much so that they had actually been texting recently. It wasn't that he wanted to go back with him, not after all the shit he put him through, but it was nice to feel wanted again.

  
Once Ernest came back into the picture, Lucien's focus had shifted. It was actually the same night they reconnected, Lucien received a text from his ex to go and hang out. His first response was a 'no' due to him already having people over. Sure, Carmensita and Amanda would understand boy drama and probably tell him to go for it since it's been almost a year since the last time he got laid, but seeing Ernest again made Lucien realize that there may have been something better. Even if their time was off in high school, they were adults now.

  
Plus, his ex could only be described as a weirdo. That night he invited Lucien out to the park in the middle of the night and if that didn't raise any red flags, then good luck. It wasn't surprising since his ex was the type that only ever wanted to meet up in the dark and just go the park and smoke. As you recall, Lucien was in the fake pot-dealing business, but he wasn't much of a smoker. Especially, not cigarettes. He found those extremely disgusting and hated the taste of his ex's lips whenever they kissed. Another reason among the many to not pursue another fling with him.

  
Lucien didn't want to go down this path, especially not at 10 in the morning. He had an hour to shower and then goth-ify himself. What? You didn't think he just woke up in full makeup and black clothes every day. No, this was part of his routine. His showers usually lasted between 10 and 15 minutes due to his "save the earth" mentality. Then he would recall the tips his father taught him on applying eyeliner and eyeshadow. Time was of the essence so he had his routine down pat. Shower, makeup, clothes, open shop.

  
Before deciding which band tee to sport for the day, he caught a rare glimpse of himself in the mirror, save for the towel covering his naughty bits. There was time to spare so he figured it wouldn't hurt for some self-indulgence. He took this time to look over all of the artwork on his body. Most, if not all, done by his predecessor, Thorne.

  
Just like the visitors and patrons that walk into the shop, Lucien's tattoos were a mix of meaningful and aesthetic pieces. As an artist, he's done everything from flaming skulls and video game characters to inspirational quotes and names of late grandparents.

  
Across the left side of his chest was a special piece, a tribute to his favorite band, and probably yours too, My Chemical Romance. The word tribute carrying a looser meaning since the tattoo just consisting of the signature MCR logo, but it was enough for him and that was all that really mattered.

  
He glanced down to his ankle to get a better view of his most recent addition. Nobody else knew of it due to Lucien thinking that other people would view it as kind of cheesy and nobody really knew him as the sentimental guy. It was his little secret, and he was proud to have it. The tattoo, containing one simple word: 'Damien,' served as a way to show his father the appreciation he never really gave him as a child.

  
His gaze shifted to his arm, which was almost completely covered in ink. He examined his wrist, what was once a simple stick and poke '666,' had been tattooed over with a more intricate and way cooler looking '666.' Thorne always had the most amazing artistic vision, and Lucien could only dream that one day he could have the amount of success she did.  
It wasn't to say that Lucien being in charge of the shop was a bad thing, on the contrary, he's been able to make good money along with receiving decent reviews. To stop himself from spiraling, he would remind himself every day that he still hadn't burned the place to the ground. That was always a positive.

  
Catching sight of his clock once more and after letting out his daily sigh, he accepted that it was finally time to get dressed and start the day. His clothing options were simple, he owned about 10 pairs of black skinny jeans, so that part wasn't too hard, but his biggest decision was the top. Viewing his tattoo earlier put him in an MCR mood, but like any crazed fan, he had more than 1 MCR shirt. Why was it such a hard decision? Black Parade was the obvious choice, but Three Cheers was also an iconic look, but the Fabulous Killjoys shirt was really cool too.

  
More and more time was passing with his indecision, but he had no time to get into that. He's had issues accepting how his indecisiveness was killing him and everyone around him. Well at least, the people that knew. He'd never admit to Ernest that the plans from the other day weren't exactly his.

  
Lucien just couldn't make up his mind, as usual, so he got ideas from Carmensita, who was shockingly mature for her age. She was also the only person that knew about Ernest and Lucien's "not date."

  
Lucien wasn't sure at what point he and Carmensita had become such close friends. Maybe it was the fact that he was a tattoo artist and due to her father being covered in them, Carmensita had acquired some sort of obsession with body art too.

  
Whatever the reason, he was glad that he had her for times like this. She would talk him through his heartbreaks and crushes, and with Ernest back in the picture, the two of them would have even more to talk about.

  
Moments after opening up the door swung open, which was no surprise. There was always someone eager to get in early so that they could be out and about their day not too long after. Luckily, his shop never got too busy, but it was enough to pay the bills. Since he was the only person that worked in the shop, it was a blessing that so few people came in at the same time.

  
He had started work on this first person, a woman who was already displaying an abundance of tattoos on her arms. She wanted a large raccoon on her calf. Now, in all of Lucien's days of tattooing strange animals, this topped the list. The women also wanted the raccoon to be snacking on an acorn under a tree and Lucien didn't have the heart to tell her that she was probably thinking of a squirrel.

  
Not long after, the door opened once again and a man entered the premises. Lucien wasn't even halfway through the first lady's piece and someone else had already shown up. Normally, it took about an hour or two before the next customer.

  
"Hey, where the hell is Thorne?" The man asked, scouring the shop for another person. His body also featured an abundance of tattoos, and Lucien could tell right away that is was Thorne's style. Unfortunately, the man had obviously not been here since Thorne moved.

  
"You didn't hear? She moved to the city a few months ago," Lucien responded, going back to work on the woman's tattoo.

"That explains a lot. The outside is different." He was most likely referring to the name change. Lucien had thought quite a bit about if it was the right decision to change it to 'BloodMarch.'

"Yeah, the shop is under new ownership."

"By who?" Their eyes met. "You?"

"Mhhm."

"You're just a kid. What the fuck do you know about running a business?"

"I used to be Thorne's apprentice. I inherited the shop a few months back."

The man was silent for a bit. Lucien wanted to believe that he was thinking about what to say next, but this guy didn't seem like the censoring type.

"Shit, if you say so," the man sighed. "Well, can I make an appointment?"

"You don't have to. I take walk-ins," Lucien replied.

"Walk-ins? The fuck."

"Yeah, if you wanted to wait, I can take you after her."

"Wait, you don't do appointments?"

"Well, I mean, you can if you want to, but I don't usually do them."

"How can you be so disorganized? Thorne did appointments. She was a way better owner," the man continued, looking around at the equipment. "And why the hell are you doing piercings? I've been coming to Thorneberry Ink for almost ten years and it is strictly tattoos."

"Sir, I don't kn-"

"Save it. I want Thorne back."

Lucien watched as the man exited the building, holding back the urge to react. Before returning to his task, he did a few breathing exercises to clear his head of what had just transpired.

"Ignore that dickhead." The woman he was tattooing met his gaze.

He smiled, hoping that the man hadn't discouraged her. Lucien had never felt more embarrassed in his life, and it was killing him to be the bigger man. Being a grown-up was serious work.

"It's okay, guys like that come in all the time," he lied, still keeping his cool.

"I personally think you're doing a great job and for a great price," the woman commented. "I'm Kelly, by the way."

"Lucien."

"Well, Lucien. Don't let that guy get you down. You seem way more interesting than him. Why don’t you tell me a story about yourself or something?"

Lucien didn't know very many stories from his childhood, especially not appropriate ones. Thinking back to his father, he remembered something that made him laugh. "When I was a young boy, my father took me into the city to see a marching band."

"Did you really think I wouldn't recognize My Chemical Romance?"

The two laughed together, before reciting the rest of the song. Kelly was a really rare person and she made him feel comfortable. In times of stress, he would use a positive memory of the past to lift his spirits and get him through the day. It would make sense to the pull the memories from the night before, seeing as those it was his most recent positive memory, but he'd had enough shitty days this year to know exactly what would cheer him up. When things got bad, he thought back to the day that Thorne told him the shop was his.

 

The weather was hot, the summer was fast approaching and Lucien could remember Thorne being a little off that day. For one, she let Lucien do more tattoos then he'd ever done in a day. She'd at least throw him in the ring for some of the smaller pieces, but this time, he was doing a full chest piece. The design was simple, the man wanted the Superman logo on his chest as if he was Superman himself. It was obviously basic in more ways than one, but that was a good thing for Lucien, who had never done a tattoo larger than an apple.

  
"You can do this, I believe in you."

Those words guiding him through the process and giving him the newfound hope he never thought would come this soon. Lucien had apprenticed under Thorne for a little under two years; was he really ready to take things on? It's what he always wanted and wished for, but why now?

The tattoo only took a few hours to complete, and the man was ecstatic about it, giving Lucien the highest praise. Thorne was absent during that time, not returning until the tattoo was finished, but then giving him praise as well. Lucien had never done a tattoo without supervision, so this was also very weird on Thorne's part.

The man left, paying Lucien what he owed, adding a generous tip. Lucien had no idea what to say, but he was sure that Thorne was hiding something. This rang true when she didn't do a single tattoo that day, having Lucien take every client, and to add, with fantastic feedback.

The last person had left and the shop was now closed for the night.

"Lucien, can we talk?"

In a relationship, those were the words that everyone wanted to avoid. As far as Lucien could remember, he wasn't romantically involved with Thorne. He wasn't sure what this would be about, considering he had done a great job during the day.

"Hey, what did you need?" Lucien uttered, once he met her upstairs, crossing into new territory. Normally, he wasn't allowed upstairs. He thought she was hiding dead bodies or something, but upon entering, he saw a place of living.

"So, I'm pretty sure you've noticed some changes," she started. He nodded, worrying that he was about to be fired for absolutely no reason. "I've just had enough."

"Oh," he replied, hurt about what she was going to say next. "Was it something I did?"

"No, this isn't about you. It's me, not you," she told him. He didn't think people actually said that.

"But, if I didn't do anything wrong, why are you firing me?"

"Firing you? Who said anything about that?"

"Oh, I just thought-"

"Lucien, I wasn't saying that I've had enough of you. I was saying that I've had enough of Maple Bay."

"Oh."

"You don't have anything to worry about, Lucien. You killed it out there today and I'm so proud of you, but I'm leaving Maple Bay."

"What?"

"Yeah, I've just overstayed my welcome. I've been here for almost ten years and my heart always belonged in the city."

"So, you're moving back?"

"Don't worry, I still have about a month before I go."

"What's going to happen to Thorneberry?" Lucien asked, worried that the years he's put into this would soon become nothing.

"That brings me to my next thing," she cleared her throat. "Lucien, I've noticed your progress. You've improved so much from the rebellious high school graduate that walked into my store years ago."

Her voice trailed off, and Lucien felt even more perplexed.

"That's why I'm leaving the shop to you."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"B-but, I'm still an apprentice."

"Not anymore, you're an artist. A talented one at that, and that's why I know you're ready to take over the shop."

"But what are you gonna do?"

"Don't you worry about me. I have a friend in the city. She needed some extra help due to its popularity. I'll be busy, but I'll come and visit to see how you're doing if you need me to."

"I just... This is Thorneberry Ink. Your name is literally on the front," he said, trying every way to stop her from doing this.

"If you feel uncomfortable about the name, then change it. Call it Bloodmarch. I always thought your last name was cool. Bloodmarch Tattoo..." she thought for a second. "And Body Piercing. You have almost every piercing imaginable. That would be perfect."

Lucien was quiet, collecting his thoughts. So much was happening so fast, and there was less than a month before he was left alone to take over. He was worried that he wasn't ready, there was still so much to learn, but Thorne gave him her blessing. He couldn't say no.

"Now, I'm sure you're wondering what all this is."

"Yeah, does someone live here?"

"I do. The parlor came with an apartment attached. It was better than paying separate rent for the shop and a place to live, and now it's yours."

"Wait, for real?"

"In a month's time, but yes, for real."

"I don't know what to say."

"Say that you'll do it. Say you'll take over the shop and make it your own and create new memories. And hopefully one day you can pass it on to your apprentice."

Speechless, he went in for a hug, and Thorne reciprocated. It was probably the greatest moment of his life. He was finally recognized for his hard work by someone that he looked up to. The timing was perfect too because he was going to need a place to live now that his house was overcrowded. Damien had married Amanda's dad and Amanda was coming back from school. Having his own place sounded like an extended vacation.

 

Now, in the present, Lucien was much more comfortable being in charge and his abilities showed that as well. He had never encountered such a rude customer like the one from earlier, but he knew it was bound to happen eventually. Finishing up the woman's tattoo, his shop soon became busy.

  
The week had gone by and the man never returned, putting his heart at ease. The weird thing was that his shop had received more clients. Did the man not complain to others? Did that Kelly lady spread something positive about his shop? Whatever the reason, Lucien had only seen the four walls of Bloodmarch.

To keep his sanity, he remained in contact with Ernest. Texting him always made the day, but they were both busy. Ernest's days off never matched up with Lucien's so they had gone quite some time without actually seeing each other.

Lucien hadn't really seen anyone in a while. If he was being honest, the criticism from that angry customer shifted him into a more work-centric state. He never wanted to feel like that again, so he felt he needed to prove something to those who doubted his ownership.

Heading upstairs after another long day, he was almost taken off guard when his phone started to buzz much longer than it would for a text. It was a phone call, but from who? Who would call him this late?

Well, the buzzing wasn't stopping anytime soon, so he decided there was no use in ignoring it. Locating his phone, he saw the name 'Carmensita' flashing with a picture of her holding up a middle finger. Releasing a sigh, he opted to answer the phone, wondering what crazy adventure she was going to drag him on next.

"You rang?"

"So, you are alive," Carmensita gasped.

"Last time I checked," he laughed, examining his own body.

"I haven't heard from you since the shoot. Who is the person that you are spending more time with than me? I swear I'll cut a bitch!"

"Sita, calm down. I've just been working a lot."

"That's a bullshit excuse."

"Isn't it a school night? Why are you up so late, high schooler?"

"Touche. Well, I just wanted to see what you were up to since everyone seems so busy lately."

"I apologize for my lack of contact, I just had this really critical guy come into the shop last week."

"What did he say? How does he look? Need me to find him? I told, you I will cut a bitch!"

"Thank you for that, but it was kind of just the wakeup call I needed. I kept my cool and got a lot done. It even felt like I had more clients than usual," he told her, getting himself into bed, ready to end this conversation at any time.

"Taking something positive out of the negative. I like that," she replied. "But you could have at least texted me."

"I haven't really texted anybody."

"You said you haven't 'really' texted anybody, which means you you've texted at least one person."

"I can't get anything past you," he lowered his voice.

"So, who is he?"

"Why would you assume it's a he?"

"Because you're gay as hell."

"I told you I don't like using that word."

"Who is he?"

"Well, you know him, actually."

"Wait, you're not still communicating with your ex. I thought we shut that down."

"No, not him."

"Then who?"

"Ernest."

"You're hooking up with Ernest?" she interrogated.

"I never said that I was hooking up with anyone," Lucien corrected. "We're just friends."

"That's what you said when we were kids."

"And it was true then."

"Is it true now?"

"Don't you have homework or something?"

"Wow, Ernest. I mean, I was surprised the other night when you told me that you two were back in communication, but to be honest, it makes sense."

"What makes sense?"

"Well, the Carnival date. The constant communication. You like him," she concluded. Lucien didn't have a counter for that statement because it could be true. Perhaps, his feelings for Ernest had returned, but would things be different this time? There was no telling if he actually recovered from what happened when they were younger.

"Maybe."

"I knew it."

"It's getting late," Lucien fake yawned. "I should go to bed."

"Wait, one more thing."

"What?"

"I'm having a party on Saturday."

"And?"

"I need my best friend there. I can't be surrounded by all these dumb high schoolers the whole night."

"Don't you have to be surrounded by dumb high schoolers every day?"

"Exactly. It's brutal, and I asked Amanda and she said no."

"Well yeah, she's too old to be babysitting teenagers."

"That's why I need you. You love parties."

"Isn't your father gonna be mad that you're throwing a party?"

"He's not gonna know. Saturday is Open Mic Night at The Coffee Spoon. He'll stay late to finish up cleaning and then crash at Pablo's. It'll be fine."

"I don't know."

"You can bring someone. Like Ernest," Carmensita suggested.

"Ernest?" he echoed.

"Yes! Invite him to my party! Do it now."

"But-"

"Alright, I'm going to bed now! I hope to see you at my party with Ernest!"

She hung up the phone too fast for Lucien to say anything else, but she did bring up a good point. Were these feelings for Ernest real? If so, a party was a good place to get to know each other. Not ideal, but it would do. All that was left to do was invite Ernest to the party, and hopefully, he would be able to come.

Finding the message thread between him and Ernest, he started to compose a text, hoping he wasn't sounding too formal or straightforward.

 

**Hey I know it's late but Carmensita is throwing a party this weekend and I was wondering if you wanted to come?**

 

His insecurities started to get the best of him. Should he have just said 'hello' first and then eased into the question? Was Ernest even awake right now? Would he get the message in the morning? Do text messages disappear overnight?

 

_Bzzt._

 

**Yeah I'm down.**

 

Lucien smiled at the response, but he didn't want to leave it at that. He wanted to talk to him more. Perhaps, it was time to use the power of suggestion.

 

**If you want I could swing by your place after work and we could go together?**

 

He was sure this time that he was definitely being too straightforward and wished that there was a way to unsend a message. To hide himself the next time the phone buzzed, he covered himself with his sheets. If this worked to stop all the monsters from getting you at night, it would definitely hide you from embarrassing yourself in front of the guy you like.

 

_Bzzt._

 

Taking a deep breath, he reached his arm out from under the covers to grab his phone. His heart was at ease, once he saw the response, and now he could rest easy looking forward to Saturday.

 

**Sounds good.**


	5. Chapter 5

"That'll be 23.43." 

"Here's 30. You can keep the change." 

Ernest was finally free for the night. This was his last delivery and it couldn't have come sooner. Of course, the first thing he had to do was report back to Pete's. With the final pizza order, there was always the worry that it would never actually make it to the customer's house and that the employee would just take it home. Ernest liked to think that he wasn't dumb enough to actually do that. At least, not anymore. 

Arriving home at the same time, as usual, he was ready to give into the divine powers of the sleep Gods. It wasn't that he was particularly more tired tonight than usual, but, no, actually that was it. During the first few days of the week, Pete's had a few of their specials and people went nuts over it. Ernest was delivering more pizza's in an hour than on some weekends. To make matters worse, it was mostly youth groups and afterschool sports practices that he had to deliver to. Not only did Ernest hate people, but at the top of his list of things to hate were bible thumpers and sports fans. 

That was another reason he hated coming home his new house because he had one of those living just down the hall. Ernest was lucky that Craig wasn't also obsessed with Jesus like that one guy that used to live down the street from them. He couldn't quite remember his name, but now he couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't encountered him since everyone else from his past seemed to show up out of nowhere. He didn't care enough to dwell on the thought. 

Getting to his room, Ernest quickly changed into his pajamas and plugged in his phone to charge for the duration of the night. His eyes staying on his phone, hoping it would light up at any moment. Pressing the power button himself, he saw the time, it was close to midnight. 

He sighed, sinking into his pillow, a pit in his stomach. Why hadn't Lucien texted him? The boys had been in close contact, talking pretty much every day. Sure, the topics of conversation ranging from anything as mundane as how work was that day to random thoughts about death and the afterlife. They covered it all. Lucien even asked him once what song he wanted to play at his funeral. Ernest wasn't sure how to respond because one, it was creepy to think about and two, there were so many songs in the world. He wanted to believe it would be a Lana song, but Lucien had shown him so much new music that he wasn't sure anymore. 

No matter how strange, Lucien's texts always got him through the day, and without receiving a single one during his shift, the day felt as if it dragged on. Of course, Ernest could have texted him first, but the boys had an unspoken system where they'd take turns sending the first message. Today was Lucien's day, and with not many minutes left in today, Ernest figured that Lucien was already asleep and it was best that he did the same. 

 

 _Bzzt_ _._  

 

Or maybe not. Ernest leaped toward his phone faster than he'd leap for a plate of pizza rolls. Okay, that's a bit of a stretch; he'd definitely be more excited for pizza rolls, but this was a close second. He grabbed his phone to see that Lucien had texted right before midnight. It was still technically today, so their streak remained unbroken. 

Reading over the message, Ernest was ecstatic; Lucien had invited him to a party at Carmensita's house. He was beginning to wonder when he'd actually get to see Lucien again in the flesh. Communicating through the tiny glass screen of a cellphone was growing tedious, actual human contact was long overdue. It was an obvious yes. 

He responded and wondered if Lucien would continue the conversation. Saying simply "Yeah I'm down," could be seen as an end to the exchange; it gave the answer to Lucien's question and they didn't technically need to discuss anything further. Ernest refused to end it there, he opened up the thread to send another message, but he was beaten to the punch by his friend who suggested the two go to the party together.  

There was no reason for Ernest to refuse it, but he would wonder what the other partygoers would think about the two boys entering the premises together. Would anyone really care? This was a party at Carmensita's house and she was still in high school, nobody would even take a second look at him or recognize him, for that matter.  

Looking at the time again, he figured he kept Lucien waiting long enough and replied with a straightforward "Sounds good." Releasing a large yawn, and staying up a little longer, Ernest saw no sign of Lucien texting back. This was where the conversation ended; plans were established with a place and time and both parties agreed on these plans. It was safe for him to get some rest, though he technically had the entirety of the next day for that. 

 

Which he did, in fact, take advantage of. With the day off, Ernest didn't wake up until around noon. Having no obligations for another couple of hours, he headed downstairs to heat up some pizza rolls and doze off to some reality shows. 

The only plan he had for today was at the Department of Motor Vehicles at 4 o clock. Obviously, nobody ever actually wanted to be at the DMV, but Hugo made a good point that Ernest should get a real license. Being unable to drive for the past couple of years and having a not-so-great history with cars, he severely needed to take his driving test. Another very important reason being his job involved him driving around all night delivering pizzas. With Hugo being a worried father and it being his car, he urged his son to do it earlier, but with Ernest being Ernest, he hadn't scheduled the test until today. 

Hugo normally arrived home from school around 3 so Ernest had plenty of time to kill before heading off to take the test. What he hadn't anticipated was that Craig would be working out in the living room, shirtless. Ernest did his best to not stare, but for some reason, he couldn't look away. It was a bit confusing to him, but what was more confusing was what was happening below the belt on his own body. 

Quickly running out of the room, hands covering his southern region, Ernest hid in the kitchen. Hoping that Craig didn't see him or any part of him, he waited for things to calm down before he decided to grab his meal. 

Once Ernest was back to normal, he scoured the freezer in search of his favorite meal. This day could only get worse for him. Had they really been out of pizza rolls? Had he really eaten every single one? What was he supposed to have today? He cringed upon seeing a frozen pizza. Could it be that his job had made him start to hate a full-sized pizza and any sight of it? 

Unfortunately, it was the closest thing at the moment. He removed the box from the freezer and slammed the freezer door. "Hey, is someone there?" 

"Fuck," Ernest muttered, forgetting that Craig was in the other room. 

"Oh, it's you, Ernest. What up, little dude?" Craig greeted, upon entering the kitchen, still shirtless and very sweaty.  

Ernest tried looking away once again but had another visit from his little friend. Inconspicuously moving the pizza box to cover himself, he wondered what the hell was going on with him. It was like he'd never seen a shirtless man before; it was just Craig, nothing special. Okay, maybe his body was in way better shape than most guys; the bulging muscles, or his well-shaped bottom and his endless abs, what was that, a 24 pack? 

"Bro, are you okay?" 

"I'm fine," Ernest fibbed, still trying to not look directly at Craig. 

"You gonna make pizza?" He questioned, gesturing to the oddly placed pizza box. 

"Oh, um, yeah. We're out of pizza rolls so this is the next best thing, I guess." 

"If you want more pizza rolls, I can run to the store and get you some?" 

"No, Craig. You don't have to-" 

"I insist, little dude. It's the least I can do," Craig interrupted, grabbing a tight long sleeve blue shirt that Ernest recognized. Before he could say anything else, Craig ran out the door.  

Ernest could see that the role of soon-to-be stepfather was already getting to Craig and that he was trying anything and everything to get on Ernest's good side. This didn't really affect him since he was used to Hugo doing the exact same thing and even with the nice view, Craig still had a lot to do if he wanted Ernest to like him. 

Especially, because he didn't get back with the pizza rolls for over an hour. When Craig said he would run to the store, he literally ran to the store. Ernest was dying of hunger and all he had to comfort him was that Ice Trucker show that he still didn't quite understand. 

The conversation was brief when Craig returned, starting with him apologizing for taking so long and finishing with Ernest giving him a weak 'thanks.' He headed into the kitchen to finally start his food, ignoring anything else Craig had to say. This time was set aside for his food; he had a test later and hungry was the last thing he wanted to be to keep his concentration. It may be a driving test, but he couldn't just head to the nearest drive-thru with the instructor in the car. 

With his abundance of pizza rolls, Ernest made a beeline for his room, closing the door and not wanting to be seen again until his dad came home. There was only an hour before Hugo would arrive, giving him a little bit of time to take a nap, but not before examining the strange clay object on his shelf once more. With no recollection of the item and seeing as it seemed to be broken, should he really care?  

"What the fuck are you?" 

Unsurprisingly, the object didn't answer his question. Still in hand, he launched himself into his bed and decided that sleeping was a good option. Forgetting what he was holding, he let himself fall into a temporary slumber. 

 

"Oh shit!" He shrieked, seeing the time on the clock. It was 3:14 and he wondered why his dad hadn't come in to wake him. Ernest threw on his hoodie and jeans and jolted out of his room not caring about personal grooming of any sort. To note, he never let go of the item either. 

Downstairs, he saw Craig passed out on the couch, fully clothed this time, cuddled up with his youngest child. Hugo was nowhere to be found. Seeing Craig still at home made Ernest wonder if this guy even had a job or any sort of life because he was either working out or on the couch, snuggled up with someone. Another thought crossed his mind, was River here the whole time or did Craig run to pick her up from school? This question wouldn't keep him up at night, it was just a tiny observation.  

He cleared his throat, loud enough to startle Craig awake, River still sleeping. "Oh, little dude. Hey." 

"Hey, Craig," Ernest started, looking around the house for any sign of his father. "Uh, where's my da... Hugo at?" 

"He didn't tell you? He had to stay after school," Craig told him, getting up to stretch. 

"Today? Right now?" 

"Yeah, it was apparently really serious, bro. A kid brought a gun to school." 

"What? A gun? Is he okay?" Ernest quavered, now worried for the safety of his father and wondering how Craig could be so nonchalant about the situation as well as sleep soundly on the couch. 

"Well, it was a water gun," Craig clarified, allowing Ernest to exhale a sigh of relief. "Nerf, to be exact." 

"Hugo is stuck at school right now because some dumb kid brought a water gun to school?" 

"Yep." 

"Why? It's just a water gun. It's harmless!" 

"Well, ya know what they say, it's a gateway gun." 

"I've never heard that," Ernest stated, along with an eye roll. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, little dude. Was that rude? I forgot that you were..." his voice trailed off as he simulated being behind bars. 

"Uh..." 

"Doggy!" River shouted, emerging from her slumber. 

"What?" Ernest queried, waving around the object. 

"Bro, she's talking about that clay thing you're holding," Craig pointed out. 

"Dog?" Ernest stared at it for a bit longer, starting to see the dog-like features. 

"Isn't it one of those, uh, whattaya call em? It starts with an m. A mardiff? M-" 

"Mastiff," Ernest corrected, his expression changing, he hid his face. The rest of the room silent. 

"Is everything alright, little dude?" Craig asked, coming toward him. Ernest wasn't ready to show Craig any emotion other than anger right now, so he hid the dog in the pocket of his hoodie. 

"No, it's not! My dad isn't here and I have to take my test in less than an hour. What am I supposed to do?" 

"Bro, that's today?" 

"Yeah, did Hugo not tell you?" 

"He mentioned that he would try to get home as fast as he could for you, but I thought that two had plans or something so I didn't ask." 

"How am I gonna get to my test?" Ernest panicked. "I can't drive there; I don't have a car and it's a driving test." 

"I'll take you," Craig offered. 

"We can't get to the DMV on foot." 

"I have a car." 

"You have a car? I thought you just ran everywhere." 

"I try to. It's much better for your body, but desperate times call for desperate measures." 

"Are you sure? You know this is my driving test so I need a car to drive," Ernest reminded him. 

"You can use mine. I'm serious." Their eyes met. "I trust you." 

For some reason, those words held a power over him. He couldn't believe it, but Craig actually trusted him. No matter how many times his father said that to him, he never believed it. He had never really given anyone above 18 a chance before. "But what about..." Ernest gestured to River, walking up to her father. 

"She can come with us," Craig insisted, picking her up. Ernest gave him an irritated look, notifying Craig that he was not a fan of children. Their eyes met and Craig, scratching his forehead, looked as if he was trying to think of something. This was the first time Ernest had ever seen him using his head. "Hey, isn't the DMV like right next to the mall. I could probably keep River entertained while you're taking your test." 

Ernest was in no position to argue at the moment. He had about a half an hour to get there and with this being the only option, he couldn't pass it up. Plus, his father would kill him if he missed this test and had to continue driving his car illegally. 

 

The ride over to the DMV was a quiet one. Nobody was saying anything because nobody knew what to say. River's silence accounted for since she couldn't really say anything, passed out in the backseat almost instantly. Ernest had never pictured his day going this way. Hanging out with Craig was the last thing he wanted to do, especially because it included an accompanying four-year-old. 

Arriving just in time, meaning a few minutes before 4 o clock, the three of them exited the vehicle. Seeing the sign at the top of the building, Ernest couldn't help but wonder how such a horrible place could live right next to the mall, a place that people were more than happy to step foot in. Craig followed him inside, throwing him a bit off, but probably just making sure that everything was going smoothly. It was his fatherly instinct, but Ernest believed that he had enough Craig for today. 

River was fully awake now and becoming antsy, thus cuing Craig to take her across the street to the mall for a prettier distraction. Ernest was starting to clear his head and focus. He obviously knew how to drive, but he still had to make sure not to screw up. Seeing Craig and River once again, his concentration was lost. They were supposed to leave already. Craig sat down next to him looking more serious than Ernest had ever seen. 

"Can I talk to you for a second?" 

"Um..." Ernest's eyes shifted to the wall clock above the front desk. He could be called to take his test at any moment. 

"First, I want to wish you good luck, but I know you don't need it. You got this. Next, I just wanted to say that I know everything hasn't been easy for you and I don't expect you to like me immediately after today, but I want you to know that I'm going to be around. I love your father. I want to be with him and I really hope that you start to see that I'm here for all the right reasons." 

Ernest was silent, partly because he was awestruck by the fact that Craig could speak so long without using a single 'bro' or 'little dude,' but mostly because he'd never thought he'd have this conversation with somebody else. When he was younger, he'd try everything to get his dad's back together and always thought Hugo was the reason for his broken family, but he couldn't have been more wrong. 

He still wasn't up for words, but Ernest extended his hand out to Craig, as if to warrant a handshake or agreement of some sort. That agreement most likely being that they respected each other and understood that they would soon be a part of the other's life. Craig reciprocated and both of them maintained eye contact for a bit. The first to break was Craig, who offered a warm smile, and Ernest wasn't much for happiness, but he returned the favor with a harmless smirk. 

After relinquishing contact, Craig exited the building, guiding his daughter along with him. Ernest was now finally alone, stuck with his own thoughts. Out of nowhere, he was flushed with a huge wave of doubt; what if he fails? Sure, he had been driving around just fine these past couple of weeks, but what if something went wrong this time? Closing his eyes and gathering his thoughts, he knew there was only one person who could get him out of his head. 

 

"Hey, is everything alright?" 

He had to admit, this wasn't something he ever did, for anyone. A simple text would've sufficed, but the weight of this situation made Ernest want to hear the voice of the person he trusted the most. 

"Hey, Lucien," he started, gathering his thoughts. The first one being, phone calls are weird, and this would be easier as a text conversation, but he was already on the line. Now, wasn't the time for formalities. "What do you do to keep calm in stressful situations?" 

Lucien was silent on the other line, but Ernest knew that it was because he was taking the time to think of the best response and how it could help him. 

"Well, I always think back to a positive memory. Focus on the positive, forget the negative. It could be anything, as long as it's something good. This memory could be from three years ago, it could be from three days ago," Lucien told him, clearing his throat. "It could even be from a week and a half ago." 

Silence clouded the phone call; both boys not saying anything for a good few minutes. The only sounds could be the slow breathing from each end; Ernest's getting slower now that he was starting to calm down. Digging his hands into his pockets, he felt something that he forgot was in there. It was obvious what Lucien was hinting to, but his thoughts had now moved elsewhere.  

He'd never tell him this, but the positive memory he chose to recall was of a time that the two were together a couple of years ago, before Lucien had graduated from their high school. The details were a bit foggy, but the good parts were amazing to think back on. 

It wasn't long before the memory was over, or at least, the positive part. The thought itself was happy, but when Ernest remembered it being his last good day with Lucien; the last day he ever really saw him until just weeks ago, he pushed it away. That wasn't something that would help this case. 

"I probably should've texted." 

"No, it's fine. I'm just not used to getting phone calls out of the blue. Carmensita did the same thing last night after I closed up the shop." 

"Oh shit, you're at work right now," Ernest realized. "I called right when you started tattooing someone, didn't I? You were probably putting 'No Regrets' on someone and then you got a call from me and messed up and now it says 'Yes Regrets.'" 

"Ernest, you're good. No one is in the shop," he giggled. "Although, I am concerned about your understanding of how tattoos work." 

"Yeah, I've never had one," Ernest added. 

"Good! Because if I heard that you got ink from someone other than me, I'd have to admit, it would sting a little." The boys shared a laughed together. "But seriously, I'm glad you called." 

"Me too." 

"And whatever stressful time you're going through -  you don't to tell me - just know that you're not alone. I believe in you." 

"Ernest Hemingway Vega." 

 

Everything happened so quickly after the conversation; with the instructor interrupting them, they had to rush. Lucien brought up their weekend party plans, confirming Ernest's interest, and then the two exchanged goodbyes. Maybe there were tears, but he knew better than to cry in a public place, or ever. The words that his friend chose were powerful though, invoking so many emotions that Ernest had once repressed or never really dealt with on such a level. 

The test was quick and easy, with Ernest being extra careful due to the car not being his father's and rather belonging to the man that would soon marry his father. He also made sure not to reveal the fact that he'd already been driving for the past couple of weeks without a license. The instructor clearly didn't want to be there any more than him, so with their mutual disdain, the drive flew by. 

His next stop was the mall across the street, where Craig and River were running around doing mundane things like the consumers they were. Before the two took their leave, Ernest had traded numbers with Craig, not totally convinced that Hugo hadn't given it to him already or placed a tracking device on Ernest's phone where they could both check his whereabouts at any given moment. 

He also wasn't too ecstatic about possibly receiving random fatherly texts from Craig, wondering how work was or if he's having a good time playing with the other kids. It was a step; one that was long overdue and that could possibly benefit them both in the long run. Ernest didn't know, perhaps Craig was the 'cool dad' that could let him get away with certain things. 

Swapping a few texts, he was able to locate River and Craig. They were in line at the ice cream shop, and River looked so excited that she could shit her pants. It wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility. 

Upon seeing him, Craig started waving him over. Normally, this would cause Ernest to slow his pace just to piss of the person calling him over, but for some reason, he didn't feel entirely comfortable treating Craig this way. 

"So, how'd it go, bro?" Craig asked, genuinely excited and interested. 

"I passed," Ernest mumbled, trying not to draw too much attention to himself. "I can legally drive again." 

"Awesome, little dude!" Craig cheered, extending his hand for a high five. Ernest reciprocated, looking around to notice people staring. "You know what? This is cause for celebration! How about some ice cream? My treat." 

"Ice cream!" River repeated, jumping up and down. 

"Uh, I'm good. You don’t have to-" 

"Come on, Ernest. We're talking about ice cream. You deserve it." 

"But don't you hate ice cream? Isn't it unhealthy?" 

"Oh, I'm not having any. This is for you." 

"Ok, uh, thank you." 

Craig gave him a warm smile as they approached the counter. Both he and River were allowed to get two scoops; not proving to be difficult for River. She was adamant about Chocolate Chip for the bottom scoop and topped it off with Pistachio. Ernest on the other hand, was a Rocky Road man himself and decided to just get a double scoop of it. 

The ride back home was much more enjoyable than the previous, with Craig even offering to let Ernest drive them back. He politely declined, thinking it wouldn't be safe with a child in the car, considering he didn't physically have a license in hand. 

With all of this unplanned quality time, Ernest started to realize that Craig wasn't that bad. His crazy drinking stories from college were pretty fun to hear and it showed that he was not a perfect guy, which made him feel a little better about not having his shit together at 18. 

It wasn't long before the 3 of them reentered their home; Hugo pacing in the living room. Seeing the others, he stopped what he was doing and started over. Ernest didn't know how to read Hugo at the moment; was he mad? Worried? 

"I'm so sorry about today, son," he began. "I just got caught up with things at school and-" 

"Hugo, it's ok," Ernest told him. 

"Oh. Really?" 

"Yeah." 

"Well, how did the test go?" 

"I passed." 

It wasn't surprise, but Hugo gave him a look that he couldn't place. Before this dragged on any further, Ernest decided to escape, but not before instilling more confusion. 

"Alright, well, I'm gonna go to my room. Thanks again, Craig!" 

He made his way up the stairs but not before stealing a look at his father's priceless expression. The thing is, it wasn't totally fictitious, Craig did help him out and he was honestly grateful. Having this conversation with his dad wasn't necessary at the moment. 

Closing his door, Ernest exhaled the largest sigh of his career, not expecting anything today to turn out the way it did. Heading over to the shelf, he pulled the little clay dog out of his pocket and examined it one more time. This time he could really understand the details, and turning it upside down, he noticed something else. The letters "DC" were etched into the bottom. There was still so much he didn't know about this thing, but he clearly understood that, and right now, that wasn't something he was comfortable remembering. 

Instead, Ernest shifted his focus on Saturday. It was still a few days away, but it was something positive. His biggest takeaway from this crazy day was to focus on things that were positive and forget anything negative that made him feel bad. And that's just what he did.  


	6. Chapter 6

The rest of the week flew by like a breeze, it seemed almost too quick. Work, sleep, texting Lucien non-stop. That's all Ernest's life seemed to consist of and with him being on good terms with both Craig and his father, life didn't seem so bad. Good terms, meaning that they didn't insult each other or do anything to directly piss off the opposing party.

The only conversation he really had with Hugo this week was about the eventual tying of the knot between he and Craig. It was fast approaching, coming much sooner than Ernest anticipated, but to be fair, this was something that could have been planned for a while before he received the information. Engagements could last anywhere from one month to a few years. At this time in his life, Hugo didn't really have anything to lose and with years passing since his last marriage, Ernest could understand why he wanted to get it done as soon as possible.

Upon conversing with his father, he could see there were a lot of nerves. What was that all about? Was it about Ernest? Was it about the wedding? Was he unsure about the marriage thing altogether and already had cold feet? 

Craig wasn't too bad of a guy. In fact, over the past few days, he and Ernest shared a few jokes here and there, being careful not to overstep any boundaries. He was beginning to not hate having an extra person around the house. The only problem was that it wasn't just one extra person.

This was Craig's week to have the kids and that meant that Ernest had to deal with the twins barricading the bathrooms. Fortunately, he didn't have to deal with this all the time. Sunday night, their mother would come to pick them up, River included, and they'd be gone for a whole seven days until Craig went to go pick them up the next Sunday night.

With it finally being the weekend, it meant the twins would be out of his hair when he arrived back from work tomorrow, but for now, his focus was on today. 

Today was Saturday and also the day of Carmensita's house party. The one that Lucien conveniently invited Ernest to. There was still some time to kill, but tonight was all that he could think of. Having no work or any other obligation for most of the day, Ernest used his time wisely; meaning he stayed in bed and relaxed. 

His next task would be to get ready, but as the procrastinator he is, he put it off for later. It was still light outside and parties didn't start until the sun goes down, everyone knew that. Lucien would pick him up when it was time, but for now, he had work. He promised Ernest he'd close up his shop an hour earlier so they wouldn't miss too much.

Confession time: Ernest hadn't been to a party since high school and even then, he wasn't himself. He was always under some sort of influence and that's what worried him. Would things be the same tonight? Ernest hadn't had a drop of alcohol in years, largely due to the fact that he was behind bars, but there was also a part of him that knew drinking wouldn't be such a good idea. His last memory of being drunk, well, he honestly couldn't remember it.

There were so many drawbacks to drinking tonight, anyway. For one, liquor tasted disgusting and Ernest had no idea how anybody actually enjoyed ingesting that stuff so frequently. His next reason would be that if he was under the influence of alcohol, then he wouldn't get to really be himself, especially around Lucien. Who knew what strange things would come out of his mouth? He may say something that he'd regret.

Careful not to dwell for too long, Ernest decided it was time to finally get out of bed for the day. With it being the middle of a Saturday, there was a slight chance that neither of the twins was hogging the shower at this exact moment.

He bolted out of his room to find a vacant bathroom, proving Ernest's mission successful. Unlike the girls, he wasn't a fan of taking extra-long showers. He just needed to get in, get clean and then get out. There was no reason to overcomplicate it. It made him wonder what they did in the shower that took them so long.

"Ew."

Running the water as a way to wash away those images, he cleared his mind. The room was soon filled with steam, meaning that Ernest would be able to enjoy a hot shower in this house for once. He never got to experience a hot shower when he was locked up. The ones in juvie only had two settings: cold and colder.

His mind would sometimes take him back there. Back to the cold cell that he was forced to share with three other guys. Guys that would play jokes on him and make him feel worthless. Guys who actually had their families visit them. Guys who were released long before Ernest was.

The water trickled down his body and he leaned in, allowing his hair to get in on the action. His hand reached up to grab a strand. He seriously needed a haircut. His hair grew pretty long over the years. It was about shoulder length and he wasn't keen on letting it go past that. He wouldn't be able to handle the comparisons to his father, so this was something that needed to happen stat.

Getting out of the shower soon after, he dried himself and begun his hunt for a pair of scissors. Exiting the bathroom, only a towel covering his lower half, he stopped at the head of the stairs. He could see Craig, Hugo and River snuggled up on the couch again. This wasn't anything new, but he also couldn't help but think that it was kind of cute.

He then recalled that his father was a teacher, meaning that he had an abundance of school supplies. With him distracted downstairs, Ernest started toward Hugo's room, which was coincidentally Craig and River's room too.

Slowly opening the door, his eyes darted around the space. The set up was different from Hugo's room at their old house, but some of his wrestling merchandise was visible, making it not too unfamiliar. Craig had left his mark on the place by moving in some inspirational fitness posters and random workout gadgets that Ernest would never want to try. This was compromise in its literal form and if this is what marriage did to someone, Ernest was definitely opposed to the idea.

Continuing his search, he found nothing out in the open, so he figured the supplies were hidden in one of the drawers. The first few dressers were a bust, containing only socks and underwear and Ernest had hoped he'd be able to go his entire life without seeing Hugo's undergarments.

Gazing back at the door, he made sure nobody was around to catch him. The coast was clear, so he focused back on his hunt. By the main bed, he saw a large box secured with a padlock. What secrets did it hide? This seemed like a shot in the dark considering his father barely hid his wrestling stuff anymore. Why would he hide a pair of scissors? To be fair, there was probably a pair downstairs in the living room or something, but now his curiosity was peaking. What was in this strange box? Why was it locked?

Obviously, Ernest had to try and open it. The padlock contained three digits, and he wanted to believe that his father would use something more creative than "1,2,3."

He did.

Having no other ideas, Ernest was stumped. He checked behind him once more to make sure he was still alone in the room. His time was running short and he was already committed to this; he couldn't quit now. What else would his dad make the code? Hugo was a sentimental guy, so maybe it would have something to do with the son who he loves, oh so much.

"Got it."

The combination was Ernest's birthday; Hugo was a sucker for that shit. He didn't have time to ridicule his father's security decisions, he was determined to see what he was hiding. Once opened, he had trouble seeing inside. The room was still dark, so he had no choice but to feel around for what was inside. His hand gripped something that felt a little strange in his fingers. Taking it out of the box, he examined what looked like a long, rubber eggplant. 

"The fuck?"

Ernest dropped the object as soon as he realized what it was. Mouthing 'ew' about a million times as he ran out, he fled to the bathroom. Cleaning his hands thoroughly, Ernest couldn't believe he had just found a box of Hugo and Craig's sex toys.

He didn't recall if he closed and locked the box and to be honest, he didn't care. Craig and his father were into some kinky things and Ernest was glad that his room lived on the opposite side of the hallway. He did wonder, however; what exactly did they use it for? Ernest didn't know too much about sex. Okay, he didn't know anything. He was still a virgin, but if you were to ask him that on the street, he'd tell you otherwise. 

It wasn't that he was embarrassed, but there was such a stigma around a guy, especially one who is now an adult; not having had a lot of partners. He didn't feel afraid of sex or any hate toward the act, he just never got the chance. There was more to it though, Ernest was someone who ultimately believed in the concept of a "soulmate" or "the one" and he wanted to save his virginity for someone special. Again, if you asked him about that, he'd tell you otherwise.

Once he felt cleansed of his recent discovery, he slowly made his way back to his own room. Now, it was time for the most important part of the pre-party, his outfit. Ernest knew that this wasn't a fancy occasion, it was a house party thrown by one of his childhood acquaintances.

There were so many options in his closet that he could choose from, but he ultimately knew what the selection would be. He wasn't a fan of being uncomfortable and this situation made him feel uncomfortable as hell. So, he went with what he always wore because he wanted some sort of comfort tonight.

With his usual orange hoodie and baggy blue jeans on, he relaxed on his bed, listening to music until the time came. Not long after, Lucien texted him, explaining that he just closed up shop and would be over to pick up Ernest in about 15 minutes.

The realness of the situation was now setting in, making him wonder if this was a good idea. Perhaps, Lucien would be feeling the same way and he'd rather go see a movie or do literally anything else? Deep down, Ernest knew he still had to be willing to go to Carmensita's just in case.

About ten minutes flew by as Ernest emotionally prepared himself for his performance tonight. These were people he barely knew, but he still needed to make a great impression. His mission for tonight was to stay away from any and all mind-altering substances. If people saw drunk Ernest or even high Ernest, there was no telling what trouble he'd get into.

Turning off his music, he exited his room, quietly shutting the door behind him. Night had fallen, but there was no telling if Craig and his dad were still up. If Hugo spotted Ernest leaving at this time of night, there was no way he'd let him go.

Reaching the foot of the stairs, he noticed the two men still cuddled up in the same spot as before. This time, the tiny child was missing, meaning River had gone to bed. On the television, the same reality show as before was being broadcasted. It was as if there was only one channel with one show in the whole town.

"Ernest?"

"Yeah."

"Are you heading out somewhere?" Hugo interrogated.

"I'm just going to hang out with Lucien again," he murmured. It was technically true.

"Wow, River's asleep and all the kids are going out tonight," Craig chimed in. "I guess it's just us."

"Did Hazel and Briar go somewhere?" Ernest inquired, now curious.

"Yeah, they left a few hours ago. They just said they had plans."

"Oh, cool."

"Well, I guess that leaves us to do whatever we want," Hugo said to Craig.

"Ok, bye!"

That was Ernest's cue to leave and with his recent findings, he didn't want to imagine what his father meant by "whatever we want." Closing the door behind him, Lucien's headlights could be seen down the street. The closer he got, the more Ernest's heart started to pound. His hand was still technically on the doorknob. It would be super easy to open it up and retreat inside.

He couldn't do that to Lucien. 

Ernest drew in a large breath as the car stopped at the curb. Inside of the car, silence. Looking over at Lucien, he seemed just as flustered. Maybe, he was having reservations about tonight as well.

"Is your day going about the same as mine?" Lucien asked him, breaking the silence.

"Eh, 5 out of 10," Ernest answered.

"Today has just been really long for me. I had a lot more customers than usual. It was like they knew I was closing a little earlier tonight."

"Didn't you post it on your website?"

"That could be it, yeah."

They shared a laugh, then allowing another long silence to sweep over them. Neither boy looked as if they were really interested in babysitting a bunch of drunk high schoolers. Since nobody spoke up, Lucien shifted into reverse, taking off to their destination. Ernest knew at this point, there was no way of getting out of it.

The car ride was probably the most awkward thing that Ernest had encountered since his return. He could tell that Lucien was tired from the day he had and that his attendance was a courtesy to his dear friend, Carmensita. He was a good guy. 

Pretty soon, the surroundings were starting to look familiar; the boys had made it to the cul-de-sac. Passing through the neighborhood he once knew so well, he noticed something odd that he hadn't observed before.

"Whoa, what happened?" Ernest asked, staring out the window at what looked like an abandoned house.

"What do you mean, what happened? You don't know," Lucien responded, slowing down the car and pulling over in front of the deserted building. "You really have been out of the loop on things."

"Yeah."

"The Christiansen house has been like that ever since he left her."

"Wait, is someone still living in there?"

"Nobody really knows. Some say they see Mary every once in a while, usually at night, but she hasn't been out recently. Probably because she's afraid of the chance that she'd run into Joseph, wherever he is."

"What happened to him?" Ernest inquired, now very intrigued.

"He left her..." his voice trailed off. "For Robert."

"Robert Small?"

Lucien nodded. "This happened a couple of years ago, actually. You really haven't heard about it?"

"No."

"What? Were you living in a cage all these years or something?"

"You have no idea," Ernest mumbled.

"Yeah, the two of them were supposedly hooking up for years before that and with the constant fighting with Mary, Joseph finally decided he was done," he continued. "Then he and Robert ran off together, never to be seen again."

"Shit."

"I know, right? Poor Mary."

"Poor Mary? Wasn't she kind of an asshole?"

"She was, but it's still kind of sad that he dropped everything and left her with all the kids."

"All of them? She's stuck with all those kids? Yeah, poor Mary is right. Wait, so are they living with her in that empty house?"

"No, I heard a rumor that her parents started taking care of them. I think they live just on the edge of town so the kids are still in Maple Bay."

"Wow, that's a lot to process."

"You asked."

"I just didn't know what to expect. They seemed to put up the front of the perfect couple. Mary and Joseph." Ernest thought for a second. "Also, can we talk about how ironic their names are?" 

"Oh yeah, I didn't even think about that. They're both bible thumpers and their names are Mary and Joseph," Lucien realized. "I'm surprised they didn't name one of their children Jesus just to commit to the bit."

"Seriously. Like what the hell is a Crish?"

"Half crab, half fish?"

"This is hurting my head."

"Maybe we should get going." He started the car back up, driving to a spot closer to the Sella residence and further away from the creepy, forsaken house.

"Okay, but one thing first." The car was soon parked in front of the loud and booming home where the party was absolutely alive. Ernest swallowed. "I don't know if I feel comfortable drinking tonight."

"Same. I'm the DD." 

"I'm serious. I don't... things just don't go so well when I drink. I would rather not have you or anyone else see me like that."

"You act like you've never been drunk around me before."

That was an interesting statement. Had Ernest ever drunk around Lucien before? It was definitely something to circle back to. "I just mean that I'm such a lightweight. Only a couple drinks and I'm out cold."

"Ernest, don’t worry. I understand and I get the same exact way. But just in case anything does happen and we both ingest something, Carmensita said it'd be fine for us to crash here until the morning."

"Alright, let's try to be accountable for each other's alcohol intake."

"You mean like drinking buddies?"

"Drinking buddies who don't actually want to drink that much."

"Sounds good to me."

Ernest's heart sank as they both exited the vehicle. The walk up to the doorway was a short one and he was now that much closer to underage drinking, something he certainly didn't want to get caught doing. Especially, with his history.

At the door, the boys weren't sure what to do; would they even hear you if you'd knock? Did people just waltz into parties nowadays? This was making Ernest and Lucien feel like old men who had never attended a party before. Deciding that knocking would be safer, the two stood outside the door to see if anyone would let them in. 

Waiting about a minute with no answer, Ernest was ready to go and he could tell that Lucien wouldn't be opposed. He was about to open his mouth to suggest going elsewhere when the door swung open, crushing his spirit along the way. Standing before them was the mastermind behind this whole shebang, Carmensita Sella. With a drink in hand, she messily leaned against the doorway.

"Hey, guys! I was wondering when you'd show up!" she slurred, almost falling over. "Come in."

They did as she said, entering into a room filled with trashed, horny teenagers. Ernest could think of at least four different things that he'd rather be doing right now. All including pizza rolls.

"So, Ernest," she spoke again, holding onto Lucien. "It's been so long, hasn't it? I feel like it's been so long. How long has it been?"

"A few years, I guess," he responded, wondering if she was aware of the reason behind why they hadn't seen each other in so long. 

"Why haven't you reached out to me? Do you hate me?"

He and Lucien exchanged glances, carrying their drunk friend to the sofa. She didn't seem to expect an answer from Ernest at this point, she was too comfortable coddling her drink. He was already over this party. There was no way he would be able to take any more wasted people coming up to him asking questions. He didn't want to give in, but a drink would really help this situation.

"I should make you two a drink," Carmensita proclaimed, jumping off the sofa.

"Oh, no. That's okay," Lucien told her, holding up his keys.

"Nonsense! I told you, Lucien. You can crash here if you decide to drink. It'll be fine."

"But-"

"Shhh. You're both too sober!"

Not really having any way to stop her, the boys followed her to the kitchen where an array of liquor bottles decorated the counters.  Basically, every type of alcohol in existence made an appearance from beer, to vodka, to gin and tequila. There was even some wine for those classy partiers. Ernest's heart was beginning to pound again. He tried to make himself feel better; one drink wouldn't hurt. He would be perfectly fine, right?

"Wow, how did all of these minors get ahold of all this alcohol? You must have some convincing fakes," Lucien commented.

"Oh, we didn't get it. My friend's older brother, Noah got it. Turns out he knew Amanda from high school," Carmensita enlightened.

"A-Amanda," Ernest stuttered. "Is Amanda here?"

"No, Amanda doesn't come to these. Plus, she's busy doing a photoshoot upstate for the weekend."

Ernest let out a sigh of relief, glad that there wouldn't be anyone else here that knew him from before. Carmensita headed to the other side of the kitchen, grabbing some soda to mix into their drinks, as well as some of the hard stuff.

"What are you making?" Ernest questioned, afraid that she may destroy his liver.

"It's a secret. Don't look!"

As if she had some sort of control over them, they did as she said and turned around, awaiting their inevitable doom. Soon enough, they each had a drink in hand and were told not to ask what was in it, which frightened both of them even more. Promising to keep each other accountable for how much alcohol consumed, Lucien found a sharpie, making a tally in the palm of his hand. He suggested Ernest do the same, thus allowing both boys to have a number to refer to. 

"Bottoms up," Lucien stated, holding out his cup. Clinking cups, both boys began downing their beverage. The taste was smooth, which hopefully meant that Carmensita made the drink more soda than liquor. Locking eyes with Lucien again, they figured it wouldn’t hurt to have another. 

They asked Carmensita to make them one more of the same drink, and she giggled, which didn't seem to alarm the boys too much. A few minutes later, she emerged from the kitchen with two drinks in hand. Giving them to the boys, they finished their drinks quickly, adding another tally to their hands.

"These are pretty good. What's in them?" Ernest inquired.

"I said not to ask!"

"Sorry, I just really enjoyed the drink."

"Oh, well I'm not sure. I just grabbed like four types of alcohol and put them in."

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah, I don't know what I used. I just snatched up whatever was nearby."

"Okay, I think we're done here," Lucien cut in, whisking Ernest away from the kitchen.

"Do you think we'll be alright?" Ernest asked him, becoming concerned.

"Of course. She probably didn't put as much as she thought. I feel okay."

"Yeah, I don't feel anything either. We'll be fine."

…

As if the merciless pounding in his head wasn't enough, the harsh sunlight shone through the window and accosted his face, jolting him awake. He didn't possess the physical ability to get up at the moment, so he decided to scoot his body to a more comfortable position, away from any light. Opening his eyes for a split second, Ernest didn't recognize the room he was in.

Sitting up, he immediately placed his hands on his head and let out a painful groan. He knew drinking wasn't a good idea last night. Looking around once more, he determined that he was not at home. Where was he? Was he still at the Sella residence? He felt something move next to him, frightening Ernest and resulting in him falling off the side of the bed. Standing back up, he noticed a large lump under the covers. It was obviously a body, but whose?

His breathing intensified, realizing what the possibilities could be. Did he really do what he thought he did? There was no way. Ernest would never do that, especially not at a party with a bunch of random people watching. Unfortunately, there was only one way to find out. He slowly reached over to grab the top of the blanket and started to pull it back. His heart pounding, he gasped at what he saw.

"Carmensita?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone!
> 
> I just wanted to thank you all for giving this story a read. I love hearing your feedback and I'm so glad that it's resonating with you. I wanted to note that when you read a long section with italics, that's a flashback. Just a heads up, because there will be a chapter that is entirely a flashback coming very soon. I also wanted to announce that we've passed the halfway mark. It's been a joy writing this story and I hope you will continue this journey with me. Thanks again!

His breathing heavy, Ernest began to pace around the unfamiliar room, blurting out every bad word in the book. He kept looking over at the bed, worried about what could have transpired. He wanted to believe that he knew better, given the circumstances, but to be honest, he had no idea what he was capable of anymore. 

All the events of last night were a blur and that was never a good sign. Staring at the girl on the bed, his breathing started to calm. He now reassured himself that nothing happened. There was no way he could've, for more than one reason. The top reason being something, he still hadn't shared with anyone. 

A slight breeze crept down his spine from that vicious window that attacked him earlier with sunlight. Shivering, his arms gravitated to his body, but for some reason, he felt skin. Looking down at his body, there was no trace of his signature orange hoodie or his jeans. He was in his underwear. 

"Oh shit. Oh fuck. There's no way." 

He was beginning to panic again, now unsure if his own reasons were enough to justify him not doing something he'd regret. Nowhere in this room were his clothes, making him feel a tiny bit better, but still filling him with some anxiety. 

"What? What's with all the yelling?" Carmensita sat up, placing her hands on her head. "Can't you see someone is trying to sleep here?" 

"Oh good, you're awake," he whispered, running up to the bed. She gave him a strange look as if she was waiting for him to say something. If he was being honest, Ernest had no idea how to start this conversation or even what to say. 

"Is something wrong?" 

"Uh, yeah." 

"Ok?" 

"Did something happen last night?" 

"Well, yeah. A lot of things happened last night. It was a party," she mumbled, lying back down. 

"Can you be more specific?" He asked, waving his arms around, flustered. 

"What's that on your hand?" She inspected. Confused as to what she was referring to, he glanced at his hand. 

"Oh, this was what I used to keep track of how many drinks I had last night," he recalled, counting the tallies on his palm. "I guess that's not too bad." 

"What about these?" 

"Huh?" 

Carmensita pointed to the back of his hand, revealing more tally marks. His jaw dropped, giving her a look of bewilderment and concern. "Holy shit." 

"Do you want me to help you count?" She queried, grabbing his hand. "Seven... eight... ni-" 

"Okay, that's enough." 

"Don't worry. I'm sure those aren't all full drinks." 

"I'm not following. 

"You might've counted shots and times you took a sip from someone else's cup. It's probably not as bad as you think." 

"Yes, it is bad. This is bad." 

"Is that what you were yelling about earlier?" 

"Um, yeah. I don't remember a thing from last night." 

"Well, from what I remember, you were pretty fun." 

"What?" He muttered, wearing a disgusted expression. 

"Yeah, you were an animal." 

"Ew! Ew! Ew!" 

"What?" 

"What do you mean, 'what?' You're telling me how crazy I was in bed." 

"In bed? The hell? I was talking about the party. You had so much fun and everyone seemed to like you." 

"But you called me an animal." 

"Yeah, a party animal." 

"So, we didn't have sex?" 

"Ew. God, no," Carmensita giggled. Ernest let out the biggest sigh of relief. "Plus, that would never happen. You're gay." 

Ernest was silent, his heart pounding. 

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean that. Lucien also hates when I use labels." 

It wasn't the fact that she used labels, it was the label itself. The word that he hadn't said out loud to himself about himself; that word still haunted him. Ernest would be a hypocrite to get mad about her using it, because that was also his top reason as to why them sleeping together wouldn't have happened. That, and the fact that she was underage, which should have actually been the number one reason. 

Figuring he was silent long enough, his mind went back to another thing she mentioned. "Hey, speaking of Lucien, where is he?" 

"How should I know? I've been in the same place as you all night." 

"Damn." 

"Maybe he crashed in the living room?" 

"Ok." Starting toward the door, he stopped before turning the doorknob, remembering that he was still without clothes. "So, I obviously can't remember a thing from last night, but could you tell me why was I sleeping next to you in just my underwear?" 

"Beats me." 

"Great." 

"Sorry, but as you can see by the sharpie marks on your hand, you had quite a night, so it's safe to assume you just crashed in my room." 

"And then you just got in the bed too?" 

"Yeah, this is my room." 

"Then do you know where my clothes are?" 

"I have no idea. You should look for them," she told him, closing her eyes again. 

Realizing Carmensita would be of no help to him anymore, he began his quest to search for his missing clothes and missing friend. Of course, no expedition could start without relieving yourself. There were no restrooms immediately outside of Carmensita's room, so he slowly crept down the hallway, passing what looked like Mat's room. Ernest knew better than to go near it, considering the secrets his own father's room contained. 

 

_Swshhh_  

 

Ernest's head jerked as he heard the sound of a toilet flushing, indicating that a restroom was nearby. Scouring the floor, he noticed another closed door. Placing his ear against it, he could hear some water running, but he wasn't sure if it was the sink or the shower. He did just hear a flush, so he deduced that the logical next step was to wash your hands, not your whole body. 

Unfortunately, he was wrong. Whoever or whatever was in there, decided to take an extra-long time. He sat outside for almost an hour, trying not to doze off. His bladder was becoming increasingly irritating every minute it wasn't able to urinate. His ears perked up when he heard the doorknob turning. 

Jumping up to look the culprit square in the eye, he gasped. "Hazel? Briar?" 

Standing before Ernest were both of his soon-to-be stepsisters. It wasn't enough that he had to deal with them hogging the bathrooms at home, but at Carmensita's house too. Before he could speak, he thought about why they were here in the first place. Were these the 'plans' they had mentioned to Craig? No, it couldn't be. They had to have known how cool their dad was, especially with him being a former party boy. There was no way that they would need to lie to him. 

"What are you doing here?" 

"You asked that same question last night," Hazel snickered. 

"You've been here since last night?" He interrogated. 

"You've been here since last night?" Briar echoed. Ernest kept his mouth shut. 

"Don't worry. We won't tell, as long as you don't," Hazel added. He nodded, acknowledging their agreement. They stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter the bathroom. 

"One more thing, Ernest. Why are you walking around in your underwear?" Briar questioned, shielding her eyes. 

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," he replied, his head down. "Maybe I had too much fun?" 

"True. You were a lot of fun last night," Hazel complimented. Ernest and Briar both gave her a strange look. Was she drunk? "You don't suck." 

There it was. 

"Well, your clothes will turn up eventually," Briar told him, a warm smile on her face. "Good luck with your search." 

Once the girls were out of view, Ernest closed the door behind him, locking it. He had completely forgotten that he had to pee at this point. He was stuck staring at himself in the mirror, examining how trashed he looked and seeing that he actually didn't look half bad in just his undies. 

Something the twins said was still in his brain. Drunk Ernest had apparently confronted them last night. He was hoping that he hadn't said anything too horribly embarrassing. 

If he could only remember. 

 

_"We should be safe here," Lucien stated, leading Ernest out the back door and into the dimly lit yard. The music wasn't as loud outside and there seemed to be way_ less _distractions. Most of the people out here were either smoking or making out. It was a party, so no surprise there._

_"Safe?" Ernest repeated, unfamiliar with the term. "Safe from what?"_

_"Carmensita."_

_"Why are we trying to get away from her? Is she trying to kill us?"_

_"Uh, you saw the drinks she made us. Girl definitely wants us dead."_

_The boys shared a laugh, Ernest being the first to gain his composure. "What now?"_

_"Let's just chill."_

_Saying no more, the boys began strolling the open space, taking in the night air. Ernest slowed his pace to match Lucien, not sure of how much alcohol was currently in his body. With no warning, he stopped in his tracks._

_"Something wrong?" Lucien inquired, stopping ahead of him._

_Ernest didn't answer immediately. Squinting, he was certain that he saw a familiar face in the distance. Back_ by _the house, there was a bench adjacent to the back door. Two people sat very close to each other, one who he recognized. Not saying anything, he went over, Lucien trying to catch up. Upon getting closer, he could see a guy and a girl who were now making out._

_"Hazel?"_

_"Who wants to know?" she questioned, breaking away from the guy. Their eyes met. "Ernest?"_

_"What are you doing here?"_

_"I should be asking you the same thing. Aren't you a little old for a high school party?"_

_"Does your dad know you're here?"_

_"Does yours?"_

_Their eyes met once again. A passerby would assume it was a staring contest._

_"Maybe we should go back inside," Lucien interrupted._

_"But we were just talking," Ernest told him, eyes still on Hazel._

_"You probably should listen to your boyfriend there," Hazel added._

_"He's not my boyfriend," Ernest growled, not missing a beat._

_"What's going on over here?" another familiar voice spoke from behind them. It was the other twin, Briar._

_"You're here too? It's like a fucking party," Ernest groaned, starting to lose his balance a bit._

_"Well, it is a party, so..." Briar noted._

_"I was just over here minding my own business and making out with this random guy, when Ernest came over and accosted me," Hazel mentioned to her sister._

_"Wait, this guy?" Briar inquired, with a disgusted look._

_"I was confused too," Ernest chimed in. "I mean, you play softball. Aren't you supposed to be a lesbian?"_

_The group fell silent, glowering at Ernest. Even Lucien didn't look happy. Was it something he said?_

_"You know that playing softball doesn't make you a lesbian, right?" Hazel questioned, standing up._

_"So, neither of you is into girls?"_

_"Oh, we never said that," Briar corrected. "I'm totally gay."_

_"And I'm bisexual," Hazel added._

_"Oh," Lucien uttered, genuinely surprised. "Did not see that coming."_

_"I need another drink," Ernest said, heading back inside. Lucien followed closely behind, leaving the girls outside._

_Back in the kitchen, Ernest was stuck deciding between which alcohol to consume. Lucien told him that he wouldn't be participating. The first two were enough for him and he reminded Ernest that he wanted to keep him accountable._

_Ernest settled on doing shots. He was able to convince Lucien that a shot wouldn't be too difficult to accomplish. It was barely even a_ drink, _if that. Each boy took a sharpie and made another mark on their hand, both at 3 now. Ernest stored the sharpie in his pocket, knowing full well that he'd need it again later._

_"What's that delightful smell?" Ernest asked, after downing his shot._

_"They're ready!" Carmensita cheered, running into the kitchen._

_"What's ready?"_

_"The pizza rolls."_

_"Pizza rolls?"_

_He followed Carmensita out of the kitchen, leaving Lucien in the dust, once again. Ernest was now back in the living room, seeing people gather around a machine with a microphone attached to it. Carmensita placed the tray of pizza rolls at the top of a table behind the machine._

_"Alright, so, who is up first?" She asked the crowd of partygoers._

_"First for what?" Ernest inquired, eyes fixated on the pizza rolls._

_"Karaoke."_

_"Karaoke?"_

_"It's when you sing a so-"_

_"I know what it is. What does that have to do with pizza rolls?"_

_"The pizza rolls are the prize for going up and performing."_

_"Why can't I just have them?"_

_"If you want pizza rolls, then you need to get up on stage. Then you can have as many as you want."_

_"Okay, so I just sing a song and then I'll get food?"_

_"It's not quite that simple. We get to pick your song."_

_"Whatever. I'll do it," he said, grabbing the microphone. "Just as long as I don't have to sing-"_

_Before he could finish, the one song that he didn't want to sing appeared on the screen. He could see Carmensita and her friends laughing, but he looked back at the beautiful plate of pizza rolls and knew what he had to do. Running into the crowd, he grabbed a random partygoer's drink and took a sip. A big sip._

_Back on stage, he marked his hand once more and took in a deep breath, now less sober and more willing to embarrass himself. "Cause baby now we got bad blood, you know it used to be mad love-"_

 

Ernest jolted back to reality, not wanting to relive any more of that unfortunate situation. He just hoped he was able to enjoy that plate of pizza rolls. Realizing he was still staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, he figured it was a good time to finally relieve himself after waiting all that time. 

Once finished, he exited the bathroom, continuing his quest for clothes and his forgotten friend. He did have to wonder what happened to Lucien. With no phone or anything, he had no way of finding him other than perusing the house. 

That memory still wasn't entirely making sense to him. He appeared to only have had four drinks at the time. One of them a shot, and the other as Carmensita guessed, a tiny sip from someone else's cup. Where did all of these other marks come from? 

Making his way into the living room, he noticed a pile of teenagers, some who didn't have much covering their bodies. Ernest did his best to guard his eyes, seeing as this could be a potential lawsuit with most of them being underage.  

He headed to the other side of the room, noticing a familiar orange object. There was no doubt that it was his hoodie, but it was wedged under one of the lifeless bodies on the couch. It was a boy's body and it was surrounded by a few female bodies. Someone got lucky last night.  

Slowly, he tiptoed over, pulling his hoodie out from under the boy. 

"Ernest?" 

"Huh?"  

The boy adjusted his position, allowing Ernest to grab hold of his beloved hoodie. He met his eyes. There was nothing familiar about him. He was a blond white guy with blue eyes. Then it came to him. 

"Chris?" 

Letting out a slight yawn, the boy nodded. There was no way that this was the same Chris that lived just a couple houses away from him when he was younger. His face was sort of the same, but he had definitely gone through a growth spurt.  

"What are you doing here?" Ernest interrogated.  

"You asked me that same question last night," Chris responded, sitting up. 

"Oh, I did." 

"Do you not remember?" 

"Uh, no." 

"I mean, you did get pretty wasted after that game." 

"What game?" 

"Well, we played a couple. Never Have I Ever, Truth or Dare-" 

"Never Have I Ever? Is that the one where you go around and people say things that they haven't done and if you have, you take a drink?" 

"Yep, and it seems you've done a lot of stuff." 

Ernest glanced at his hand again, realizing now where most of these tally marks came from. Then some more things started to come back. 

 

 

_Reuniting with Lucien, who had gotten comfortable on the sofa, Ernest was now satisfied. He had his pizza rolls and there was nothing that could get him down after he'd eaten. Lucien wasn't being as responsive as before. Ernest didn't look too far into it. Strangely enough, he was enjoying the party._

_Ernest suggested another drink to get him into the mood, but Lucien declined. His tally marks remained at three, while Ernest had almost doubled his numbers in just a few minutes._

_"Are you mad?" He asked, using the 'I'll pretend I don't know what I did wrong' approach._

_"Oh, ya know, I'm just the soberest person at a party full of drunk teenagers. I'm great," Lucien replied, sarcastically._

_"Well, if you're mad that you're sober, then why don't you just drink more?"_

_Their eyes met. Lucien clearly wasn't having it. "Ernest, I thought we promised each other that we wouldn't drink."_

_"When did I say that?"_

_"Before we arrived. In the car. It was your idea."_

_"Well, you saw Carmensita when we got here. She practically forced alcohol inside of us."_

_"Yeah, but that was only two drinks. That's all I had. I couldn't even finish the shot you gave me. You decided to drink more on your own"_

_"Okay, but it didn't do anything," Ernest slurred. "I'm fine."_

_He stood up from the couch, almost falling over. Lucien came to his rescue, visibly annoyed, but the type of person to make sure his friend didn't fall face first into a bowl of chips. The boys continued back toward the kitchen, Ernest taking control of his own body, but not watching carefully. He tripped over a leg peeking out from behind the couch._

_"Dude, what the hell?" They stopped to see the body get up and reveal a blond boy with two girls kissing his neck. "Whoa."_

_"Chris?" Lucien uttered._

_"What are you doing here?" Ernest asked him._

_"This is a high school party. I'm in high school. What are you two old men doing here?"_

_"Wait, high school? Weren't you like ten the last time I saw you?"_

_"Well, as you two are familiar with, people sometimes age."_

_"Hey, we're not that much older than you," Lucien defended. Chris laughed, standing up and shooing the girls away._

_"Who were your friends?" Ernest inquired, completely disinterested._

_"Oh, I have no idea. I want to say the redhead's name is Debbie or Rebecca or something. It doesn't matter."_

_"Wow, you've become kind of a dick."_

_"Girls like that. You won't believe how much ass I've gotten in the past month."_

_"You're right. We wouldn't believe that," Lucien told him, grabbing Ernest. "We should go somewhere else now."_

_"But if you two leave, you're going to miss the best part of the night."_

_"And what's that?"_

_"Game time!" Carmensita announced. They looked over at Chris, who wore a tiny smirk, and headed toward the main room where everyone was gathering. Ernest and Lucien decided it wouldn't be totally horrible to just sit and watch. "Alright, the name of the game is Never Have I Ever. Now, everyone will have a drink in hand and then we'll go around the circle and everyone is going to say something they haven't done. If someone else has done it, they must take a drink. Everyone clear?"_

_As heads nodded in agreement, Ernest could see Lucien starting to distance himself. He knew that this game was just a sad attempt to get even more trashed, and as someone who probably had done a lot more things than these teens, it wouldn't be a good idea to play._

_Ernest wasn't sure what to do. Would he go with his friend and stop drinking for tonight, or would he continue to have a good drunken night of forgetting all the bullshit?_

_He took the latter._

_Temporarily forgetting about Lucien, the game of Never Have I Ever was in full swing. Surprisingly, the confessions weren't as inappropriate as Ernest thought. He had done way more of these things than anyone else. Skipping school, smoking, saying bad words to parents. Could these high school kids be anymore high school?_

_With sharpie in hand, he continued his tally marks, now not having room on the inside of his palm. The game had ended, meaning he didn't need to continue counting his alcohol intake. His next mission was to find Lucien._

_"Alright, time for Truth or Dare!"_

_It would take too long to find Lucien and who in their right mind could pass up a good game of Truth or Dare? The game was about to start, so he had no choice but to stay. He found Carmensita, and sat next to her in the circle._

_Unfortunately, most of the truths weren't as juicy as he'd expected and the dares were definitely childish. What could he really expect from this kind of party?_

_"Ernest," Carmensita began, indicating it was his turn. "Truth or Dare?"_

_He figured whichever way he went wouldn't be that big of a deal. The truth question would probably be a simple question about music or television and the dare would be to drink more._

_"Truth," he responded. Carmensita wore a scary smile. What was in her head?_

_"Ernest, do you..." she trailed off. "Do you have a crush on Lucien?"_

_His heart sank as the eyes all flocked to him. His breathing was growing heavy again, and he could really use another drink._

_"I meant to say dare."_

_He started reaching for the nearest cup. "Okay, we dare you to dance around the house in your underwear."_

_He stopped, puzzled. Why did everyone else get the easy truths and dares and he had to basically bare himself to everyone? All he knew was that this way easier than answering that question. Standing up, he began stripping, with occasional cheers. Taking off his hoodie, he tossed it over to the couch. Then once his pants were off, he tossed them behind him, near the window. Consuming another drink, he began to dance around._

 

 

Exiting the memory, he glanced over to the window, seeing his pants hanging on the window sill. He went over to grab glancing outside. Seeing the cars parked, he couldn't help but feel like something was missing. 

Where was Lucien's car?  

Had he left the party last night? There was no way. He had a couple of drinks and he knew it'd be unsafe to drive even with a little bit of alcohol inside of him. 

Digging through his pants, Ernest found his phone. Scrolling through the minuscule amount of contacts, he found Lucien's name. He first sent a small text, asking about his whereabouts and if he was okay. There was no response. It wouldn't hurt to give him a call.  

Placing the phone against his ear, he waited to hear Lucien's voice. Unfortunately, the only voice was the one on his voicemail. His phone was definitely on because it rang, so he tried again. Still no answer. What was going on? Ernest hoped more than anything that he was okay. He needed to get to the bottom of this and there was one person who could help him. 

"Carmensita, wake up!" 

He entered her room, this time, fully clothed. Carmensita was still in bed. Ernest walked toward it, grabbing a pillow and tossing it on her. She still didn't move. He grabbed the pillow once more, this time hitting her face.  

"What?" 

"Where's Lucien?" 

"Lucien? You're interrupting my precious slumber to ask me about Lucien?" 

"Yes." 

"Well, I don't know. Maybe he passed out in the living room or something." 

"No, he didn't. I checked. He's not in the house at all. His car's gone." 

She sat up, now with a worried expression. "Wait, he's not here?" 

Ernest shook his head. "Nope." 

"Well, surely he didn't drive home last night under the influence. That's dangerous. He wouldn't do that, right?" Carmensita panicked. 

"I don't know. Maybe he spent the night and then left earlier this morning. That's what I'm hoping," Ernest told her. 

"Did you try calling him?" 

"Yeah, I texted and called him and he hasn't answered me." 

"Try again." 

Both of them grabbed their phones, finding Lucien's number and placing a call. Ernest hung up once his went to voicemail. He was going to tell Carmensita that it wasn't worth it and that he wouldn't answer, but something unexpected happened. 

"Hey, Lucien," Carmensita spoke into her cell. "I was so worried about you." 

Ernest was now confused, and a little hurt. He tried calling Lucien a bunch of times, at the same time as her too. Maybe her service was better. That's what Ernest wanted to believe. Lucien wasn't ignoring his calls on purpose, right? 

"Oh, he crashed on the couch and then left earlier this morning," Carmensita told Ernest, with the phone still placed against her ear. Ernest didn't want to say anything, but there was no way that he was on that couch. Chris and all of his groupies took up the whole thing. Why was Lucien lying? 

"Hey, can I talk to him?" Ernest asked her, walking over. 

"Uh, sure. Hey, Lucien. Ernest wants to talk to you," she said, handing the phone to him. 

"Lucien, I'm so glad to hear you're ok-"  

Did he just go deaf or was there nobody on the line?  

"Hello. Lucien?" 

He hung up on him. 

"Hello?" Carmensita spoke, grabbing the phone back. "I guess he was busy and had to go?" 

That was another thing that was almost impossible. Lucien's shop was never open on Sundays. He wasn't busy, he just didn't want to talk to Ernest and he had no idea why. 

"What do I do now?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Well, he left and now I don't have a ride home." 

"I wish I could help you out there, but I can't drive." 

"What about your dad?" 

"About that. He doesn't know that I had a party. Actually, I should thank you for waking me up because I have no idea when he'll be home and I need to start kicking people out." 

"Are you serious?" 

"Yeah. Don't you have anyone else you can call?" 

 

 

About twenty minutes later, Ernest was standing outside of the Sella residence, watching as a familiar car approached. "Hey, Craig," he said, entering the passenger's side. "Uh, thanks for coming to get me." 

"No, problem."  

Most of the drive was silent. He knew what Craig was eventually going to ask. What happened to Lucien? I thought you were going to be with him last night. Where is he? Perhaps he'd take the soon-to-be parent root, where he would scold him for going to a party and drinking when he's not 21. Ernest vowed that if he got busted for this, he would definitely take the twins down with him.  

"Don't worry, I won't tell your father about this," Craig spoke up. 

"Thanks." 

"But if it comes up in a conversation, I don't know what to tell you." 

"What kind of conversation would it even come up in?" Ernest inquired, feeling a pounding in his head once more. 

"Like if someone asks if I'm a cool dad and I have to prove it," Craig laughed. "I can tell them about the time I picked up my hungover stepson and didn't tell his father about it." 

"Ok." 

"But I do have a question." Uh oh. Here it comes. "Were my girls there?" 

"Oh, um." 

"It's okay, you can tell me. Were Hazel and Briar at the party?" 

"Well, yeah, but they told me not to tell you," Ernest confessed. 

"And you were going to keep their secret?" He nodded. "You're a good brother." 

"Ew, no. Don't call me that!" 

"It's true. You're keeping secrets for your stepsisters. You're a good brother." 

"Crap." 

"But, they're still in trouble." 

Moments later, they arrived home, miles away from the cul-de-sac. Entering the house, it seemed as if everyone was still sleeping. Everyone meaning Hugo and River, with Hazel and Briar pretending to be asleep like they've been there the whole night. 

Ernest didn't have work until later in the day and receiving no sleep at all, he headed up to his room. He thanked Craig again along the way, glad that someone was on his side. 

Lying on his bed, Lucien crossed his mind. Why was he being so unresponsive? Had Ernest done something? Was it last night? He couldn't remember doing anything bad enough to make Lucien leave him stranded. Sure, Ernest got a little drunk, but Lucien was an understanding guy who ultimately would want to make sure that his friend got home safe. 

He was trying to focus on everything else that occurred during the party. What directly followed his drunken strip session? Was that what offended him? Ernest examined his hand again, wondering where he had received the marks on the back. 

And then it hit him. 

 

_"There you are!" Ernest stumbled through the door of what seemed to be_ Carmensita's _bedroom. Alone on the bed, sat his friend, Lucien. He'd been searching for most of the night._

_"Hey," Lucien replied, less enthusiastic. Ernest took a seat next to his friend._

_"What are you doing here all alone?"_

_"Oh, I just wanted to get away from all the craziness."_

_"Well, I missed you. I wanted to spend time with you," Ernest slurred, putting his hand on Lucien's leg._

_"That's nice of you," Lucien replied, examining Ernest's hand. "Damn, you went way past what we agreed." His hand still only had the three marks, while Ernest now had marks on the other side. "When did all this happen?"_

_"If I'm being honest, I lost track, so I just added those last few as an educated guess."_

_They both shared a laugh, still maintaining contact. Their eyes met, hands still touching. Everything was still a bit foggy, but Ernest knew what he wanted and he could tell that Lucien wanted the same._

_Their faces grew closer and_ closer, _until there was almost no space between them. It was obvious what the next step was, but who would be the one to initiate? Who had the guts to do what they both wanted to do for so long?_

_"What happened to us?" Ernest decided to utter. Lucien's eyebrow raised in confusion. The moment was now over._

_"What do you mean?"_

_"We used to be so close. You were my best friend."_

_"Ernest, I'm not sure I'm following."_

_"What happened to us? Why did you stop talking to me?"_

_"Maybe, now isn't the best time-"_

_"Was it because I was still in high school? You were a big adult and you didn't want to hang with a dumb old high schooler anymore?"_

_"We probably shouldn't be getting into this right now-"_

_"But then you're hanging out with Carmensita who is way younger than you and is still in high school. So, I don't get it. Was it me? Why me?"_

_"Ernest-"_

_"Why did you leave me all alone? Why did you stop talking to me?"_

_"You and I know very well that I was not the one who stopped talking to you!" Lucien exclaimed, standing up. "You have no right to accuse me of anything when it was you who stopped talking to me. It was you who stopped being my friend. It was you who left me alone."_

_"But-"_

_"I am not going to sit here while you make me feel like shit for something you did. Goodbye, Ernest. Have a great fucking life."_

_Before Ernest could say anything else, the door was slammed shut, leaving him alone in this unfamiliar room. There was so much to process and with no control over his mind at the moment, he crumbled. Stretched across the bed, clutching a pillow, he cried himself to sleep._


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> It's been a while. Forgive me for my absence. I had a very busy November, but I'm back and ready to put my full attention on this story. Expect it to be updated much more frequently. (Maybe even weekly) Thank you all for staying along for the ride. I hope you enjoy!

 

"Lucien!" 

 

It was Saturday night. A full week since the events of the party.   

 

"Lucien, please answer me!" 

 

Ernest had come by every night. Standing outside of Bloodmarch Tattoo and Body Piercing, he would call out to his dejected friend. 

 

"Lucien, I remembered what happened at the party. I'm sorry about that!" 

 

It was starting to become a lost cause. There was no answer. There never was. The first instance, being last Sunday afternoon following his recollections of the events of the party. Forgoing his much-needed nap, Ernest went straight to Bloodmarch. 

He remembered that it was closed every Sunday, but also knew that Lucien lived in the same building. His window visible from the street, a large curtain did its job of hiding what was inside all too well.  

Considering the possibility that Lucien also received minimal sleep last night, he could be taking a nap, but then he also answered Carmensita's call with no hesitation. He had to be awake, it was the middle of the day. Ernest continued to press on, unmoved and yelling to Lucien, apologizing for the occurrences of the night before. There was no telling if he was getting through or not. 

Ernest eventually got a call from work, stating that he was fifteen minutes late, meaning he had been standing outside of the shop all day trying to contact his friend. Unfortunately, it was time to leave, but that wouldn't stop him from coming back after work later that night.  

 

Sadly, the same thing happened again. 

It continued throughout the week. After his shifts at Pete's, Ernest would go to Bloodmarch, knowing that Lucien just closed up shop. This meant that he could technically still be awake. It was always worth a shot.  

Ultimately, Ernest was left in the cold of night each and every time. 

A thought came to him; maybe it would be easier to go inside when the shop was open. Go and face him head on where he couldn't technically turn him away. Ernest thought about how awkward that would be, especially if Lucien had a customer. Would he make a scene? Would Lucien pay attention to him? Would there be yelling? 

The more he thought about it, the more he didn't want to do it. It wasn't his best idea. Ernest just stuck with his nightly activity. During the day, he'd try calling and sending text messages checking in to see if everything was okay, lightening things up with a meme or two. There was no response, on any platform. 

Lucien had gone completely dark, making Ernest think the worst. He hadn't posted anything at all that week, not that Lucien was someone who constantly updated any of his social media accounts. Most of his profiles were weeks old. Those weren't really anything to be worried about.

He wasn't dead. Ernest knew that for sure. There were some times when he would drive by during the day and see him through the front window of the shop, working on someone's tattoo. Those were the moments he'd would want to just barge in, apologize and plead for Lucien's forgiveness. 

He obviously didn't.  

 

Checking the time, he was ready to give up for tonight. It was becoming very clear that Lucien wasn't going to come out and see Ernest.  

"Lucien!" he called one last time before turning around and heading back to where he parked his car. 

"Hey!" A voice called, right as he got to the sidewalk. A glimmer of hope filled within him, his heart beating. Twisted around, his focus was up at Lucien's window. He saw nothing. 

"Huh? What was that?" Ernest whispered to himself. He walked up closer to the shop. "Lucien!" 

"Hey!" The voice yelled again. Ernest examined every part of the building, still not seeing anyone. "Over here." His gaze shifted to the next house over, where a man was stretched out of his window. "Can you shut the fuck up? Some of us are trying to sleep here." 

Ernest didn't need to hear that twice. He immediately fled the property, getting into his car and driving home. He wanted to say he was sorry to the man and anyone else he disturbed in the neighborhood, but he couldn't. Ernest knew he'd be back there again doing the same thing at the same time. 

Tomorrow was Sunday and he was off for the entire day. That didn't mean he'd spend his entire day off outside of Lucien's place. There were many things he could do on his day off, but to be honest, he'd probably end up back over there. 

 

It wasn't long before Ernest arrived at home around the same time he usually did. It was amazing to him that he hadn't been enjoying his freedom at home. None of Craig's kids were present. It was their mother's week to spend time with them, so Ernest could take a shower without the hot water being all gone and he could roam the premises with no rugrats running around slapping people's butts.  

That was a new thing that River was apparently into now. She had developed an obsession with butts. Whenever it'd happen, Craig would laugh and say that she probably got that from him, then he would look over at Hugo and Ernest would quickly flee the conversation. 

Speaking of Hugo, Ernest and his father had kept a reasonable distance over the week. Respecting each other's privacy and greeting the other whenever the situation called for it. Nothing more than that. There was no bad blood between them, nothing was wrong; they just didn't need to speak to each other. 

Exiting his car and slowly creeping into his house, he made sure not to make any loud noises. This was one of those times where he didn't want to engage in an impromptu exchange with his father. He just needed to climb the stairs, get to his bed and fall to sleep. 

Trudging up the staircase, he heard a noise, voices actually. He turned around to see the living room clear. Looking back up, he noticed Hugo and Craig's room was open. The door was cracked the tiniest bit, but not enough for anyone to really see through. 

After his previous discovery in that room, Ernest wasn't excited to know about anything going on in there. Hopefully, leaving the door open would mean that nothing naughty was taking place. He didn't want to chance it, so he tried his best to tiptoe past it as quickly as possible. 

"...Ernest?" a voice whispered from the room. He stopped, wondering if his cover was blown, but the conversation continued without him. Ernest felt like he had no choice now but to eavesdrop.  

"No, I haven't asked him yet," Hugo whispered back. 

"Well, it's coming up very soon," Craig replied. "When are you gonna do it?" 

"I've got it covered. Don't worry." 

"Hugo." 

"I'll ask him when the time is right." 

"When will that be? The day before?" 

"Craig, I have a plan," Hugo stated. "Plus, I've been considering the possibility that he'll say no." 

"Don't think about that," Craig comforted. "I personally think he will say yes." 

"And how do you know that?" 

"Because he loves me." 

"Ernest? My Ernest? He doesn't love anything. Except, maybe those rolled up pizza things." 

"Okay, love is a strong word. I think he really likes me. We've been getting along. I'm the cool stepdad to him. We hang out." 

"You two hang out?" 

"Yeah, a couple of times. And he even called me last week to pick him up from a party." 

 

Well, that was the last time he trusted Craig with anything. 

 

"A party? What?" Hugo questioned. 

"Don't worry. It wasn't a big deal. He was responsible," Craig told him. 

"Well yeah, he called you. If I knew about it, I'd have whooped his ass." 

"He's a good kid, seriously." 

"You really think so?" 

"Yeah. He has a job. He's reconnecting with old friends. He even lets you know when he's leaving the house. That's something he never used to tell you, right? I think he's been doing really well." 

"That's great to hear. They said he'd have a tough time adjusting back to normal life, but it seems he's doing fine." 

"Hugo, he's not the same kid that he used to be. He's changed." 

"That's true. He's come a long way. Sometimes I wonder if he was just a victim of circumstance. So much happened leading up to it." 

"You never actually told me about what really happened." 

"It all just occurred so fast. One thing after another. Ernest had just finished his sophomore year of high school," Hugo began. "Though his father wasn't aware of that." 

"Your ex-husband?" Craig inquired. 

"Yes. He thought that Ernest was a senior and had just graduated. He never paid attention. If it was actually Ernest's graduation, wouldn't it make sense for him to show up?" 

"I'm sorry." 

"Since he was basically the part time dad anyways, just seeing Ernest on weekends, mostly, he figured he didn't need to be around anymore. So, he went off with this younger guy, who, mind you was only a few years older than his son." 

"Shit. That's rough." 

"Instead of choosing his own child, he ran off with that twenty-something kid. Now they're in Honolulu sucking down Mai Tais right before they suck down each other's-" 

"Okay, no need to finish that sentence. I think I know where you were going." 

"Sorry, he just gets me so mad. It's partly his fault. Maybe if he hadn't left then Ernest would've been happier and he wouldn't have felt so abandoned or alone. He still wouldn't talk to me and he didn't seem to be hanging out with Lucien anymore. One day they just stopped talking or something. I don't know the details. Regardless, all he had left was his dog." 

"Duchess Cordelia..." 

"Yeah, and not long after everyone else had left him, Duchess got really sick. Ernest didn't have much time left with her." 

"Oh no." 

"Duchess dying was basically the last straw. After that, there was no getting through to him. Ernest was entirely unresponsive. Well, more unresponsive than usual. He was spiraling. He was doing things I never thought he'd do." 

"And is that when he..." 

"Yep, and then-" 

 

Ernest had heard enough. He lived through it for god's sake. There was no use in him listening and hearing all the dumb shit he got into again. Quietly resuming his tiptoeing, he headed straight for his own room. 

Getting inside, a thought crossed his mind. Why had he never told anyone? Since he's been back, nobody was aware of what his disappearance entailed. He was lying to his friends. Rather, friend. Perhaps, that was why he was so angry. He found out the truth and was pissed that Ernest didn't tell him himself? 

No, that couldn't be it. Lucien used to be a bad boy, almost being thrown into juvie a few times himself. He'd understand not wanting to share all the bad decisions of the past. That still left Ernest very confused about the whole situation.

He couldn't think about that right now. That was a problem for another day. Tomorrow, to be exact. 

Tonight's problem would be about his fathers. Or his actual dad and soon-to-be stepdad. Ernest wasn't mad at Craig. He was at first, but he understood why Craig mentioned the party. It was to make it seem like they were cool and had this bond, which they did. He couldn't help but wonder what they had been whispering about before he got there. He only caught the tail end of that discussion.  

Hugo needed to ask him something and he said he'd do it soon. That took a bit of worry off of Ernest's shoulders. He didn't have to actively seek whatever it was. It would come to him. 

At some point during the night, between the tossing and turning, Ernest had begun his slumber. Occasionally jolting awake, he didn't stay asleep for long. This wasn't exactly in response to his father or Lucien. This was something else. 

It was happening again. 

 He was having those nightmares again. The last time this happened was a couple of years ago. It was the weeks leading up to his incarceration, which also happened to be the weeks following both his father leaving and Duchess Cordelia dying. 

He didn't like to think back to that time. That's when everything changed. When all the positives in his life turned extremely negative. When he was forced to never see anyone in his life. Though, many of those relationships had already been fractured. It was fair to say that it was his own fault for that. 

The dreams themselves consisted of mostly darkness. Ernest felt completely alone when inside of them. He would call out and no one would answer. Then he'd see the images. The things he'd lost. His father, Duchess and the first person that left him. The first person he felt he lost. Everything always went back to him. Lucien Bloodmarch. His first friend, his first best friend. The first person he cared about who truly cared for him. Who saw the real him. 

That's why right now was a particularly tough time on him. The obvious reason it was happening again was because Ernest was going through the exact same thing all over again. The guy he shared everything with and felt so many things for was gone for the second time. 

There was something that kept repeating in his head. One of the last things that Lucien said to him at the party. He was so angry and it wasn't from the alcohol. He only had two drinks, that he really only sipped. The alcohol was definitely out of his system by then.  

 

_"_ _You have no right to accuse me of anything when it was you who stopped talking to me_ _. It was_ _you_ _who_   _stopped being my friend. It was you who left me alone_ _."_  

 

It was you. 

 

It was you. 

 

It. Was. You. 

 

Ernest. It was all Ernest's fault. If only he could remember what he did. 

 

Daylight was now in full effect and Ernest realized that he had received absolutely no sleep. He could hear voices from outside his room. His father and Craig were awake and while it was still Sunday, Ernest figured it be best to wake up and take in all of his freedom while he had it. Later, the house would be full once again and he would have almost zero space to keep his peace. 

He decided to start the day by cleansing himself. The upstairs shower was free and the hot water would be all to him. He took a little longer than usual, since this was a rare occasion. With no rush, he exited the bathroom feeling completely revitalized. Continuing to take his time, he made it back to his room, changing into his normal ensemble. He felt untouchable, with no worry in the world. 

It only took about thirty seconds for him to jolt back to reality and start stressing about all the shit in his life. 

Ernest needed something to get his mind off of it again. Anything would work. 

 

_Grrr_ _._  

 

Luckily, his stomach knew exactly what to do right now. That beautiful sound meant that he was hungry and it was time to chow down. Most people would say that it was still breakfast, maybe brunch, but regardless of the time, Ernest only wanted one thing.  

"Oh, pizza rolls, how I've missed your sweet, beautiful faces," Ernest whispered, pulling the box of pizza rolls out of the freezer. Realizing he was talking to a box, he looked around to see if anyone had witnessed it. The coast was clear. 

His next move was to heat up the pizza rolls. Leaning against the wall, he could hear the sounds of the television and some chatter. Craig and Hugo were in the living room.  

Ernest didn't want to see anybody right now. He really wished there was another exit to his room from the kitchen, but the only other one was the backdoor. Now that he thought about it, he'd never really been outside that much in this new house. He was just holed up in his room or at work, or with Lucien. 

Soon after, the pizza rolls were finished. Traditionally, they weren't a dish to be enjoyed outside, but Ernest still wanted to be alone. He retreated out the backdoor with the tray of pizza rolls in hand. 

It was nicer than he pictured. There was a porch swing near a plot of flowers that seemed to be a mini garden. They looked very well taken care of. This couldn't have been new. Obviously, it was from the previous owners. Hugo wasn't a gardener. He couldn’t take care of flowers. He couldn't even take care of a child. 

Scarfing down his pizza rolls, Ernest took in the scenery. It was another beautiful day in Maple Bay. The sun was out and the birds were chirping. Everyone seemed to be having such a good life. It wasn't enough to make Ernest feel better about his own shitty escapades. Even his pizza rolls didn't have the power to put a smile on his face. 

As he finished them, Ernest set the tray aside and pulled his phone out. Again, he tried texting and calling his friend. There were a few rings but it eventually went to voicemail like it usually did.  

 

"This is Lucien. Don't leave a message. I won't listen to it. By-" 

 

Ernest scrolled through his social media feeds, checking Lucien's profiles . Stopping, he clicked on a picture of Lucien and Carmensita from a few months back. That's when it occurred to him that she might have some information about the situation. 

He found her number in his contacts and clicked on it, awaiting a ring. 

 

"What do you want?" 

"Hey, Carmensita. It's Ernest. I was ju-" 

"JK! I'm not actually here right now! Leave a message after the beep and I will gladly delete it and never call you back. Bye!"  

 

It was another bust. What was going on? Did they both decide to stop talking to him? Did they both just drop off the face of the earth. Checking Carmensita's profiles, Ernest saw that she hadn't posted since the night of the party. This was unlike her. She was obsessed with social media. She couldn't go five minutes without tweeting and she had over a thousand pictures, just from this year. Perhaps, it was unrelated to him.  

Or maybe they blocked him. That could be why he hadn't seen any new posts. Or was blocking when you couldn't see anything at all? He wasn't sure. He'd never been blocked before. Well, as far as he knew.  

Putting away his phone, he leaned his head back. Shutting his eyes, he only used his ears. Taking in the sounds of nature. It was soothing, refreshing. It was enough to make Ernest doze off for a bit. 

Unfortunately, no matter where he slumbered, he wasn't safe from his demons. 

 

_The darkness surrounded him, g_ _rowing_ _bigger and bigger until he was completely enveloped. One by one, images flashed before him. Three, in a specific order. The same three that it had always been. The three things he lost. The three things he wanted to get back. The three things he felt he would n_ _ever see again_ _._  

_He would call to them in the order_   _they appeared. The order in which he_   _lost them._  

 

_"Lucien!"_  

_"Dad_ _!"_  

_"Duchess_ _!"_  

 

_None of them would answer._ _They n_ _ever answered._  

_But_ _the difference now was that he_ _had hope._  

_He was able to retrieve one of those things recently. Who was to say he couldn't do it again?_  

 

"Ernest?" 

"Ahh!" He yelled, jolting awake. It was his father, holding a trowel and a potted plant. "Hugo? What are you doing here?" 

"I was just-" he said, gesturing to the garden. 

"When did you start gardening?" Ernest inquired. 

"It hasn't been too long. A year or so. I find it peaceful. It helps me with stress." 

"Oh, that's cool. Weird, but cool." 

"I've just always had an interest in nature that I never really tapped into. I don't know." 

"It doesn't have anything to do with Craig?" 

"Why would it be related to him? He doesn't garden." 

"Yeah, but he actually goes outside." 

"So do I," Hugo defended. 

"Um." 

"Okay, you got me. When we first started dating, I tried to do things he liked and that mostly consisted of deadly physical activities. That didn't work for me so he suggested that I just get outside and enjoy the outdoors a little more in whatever way works." 

"So, you decided to garden?" Ernest queried. 

"It requires minimal physical strain and I get to enjoy the outdoors," Hugo explained. 

"I see that. I just doesn't seem like something you'd keep doing for a year," Ernest mentioned. 

"Well, it's something that I like and I did it to get closer to the person I love. I'm not trying to be cheesy, but if you care about someone, you make sacrifices for them. If you want something go for it, no matter how difficult it may seem to reach it. I don't know how many more clichés I can fit into one paragraph." 

 

In that moment, Ernest actually listened to his father, which was strange. Usually everything he said was stupid. Maybe Hugo wasn't an idiot. 

 

"Hey, can I borrow the car?" 

"Right now?" 

"Yeah, it'll be quick. There's something I need to do." 

"Okay, but make sure you're back before dinner," Hugo called to him.

"Dinner?" Ernest echoed. When did they ever have dinner as a family? 

"Yeah, Craig is picking up the girls today and we're all going to have a family dinner together. There's something I want to talk to you about." 

That's when Ernest recalled the conversation that he overheard last night. His father was going to ask him tonight. It wasn't his biggest concern. He'd handle it later. For now, there was something that he wanted and he needed to go for it. 

Grabbing the keys, he exited the house and jumped into the car, heading straight for Bloodmarch. He saw it all in his head. He'd bust out of his car and bang on the door, calling out to Lucien, not leaving until he came down and talked to him.

It didn't take him long to get there, but things didn't go as planned. 

For close to an hour, he just sat in his car, staring at the shop. It wasn't that he didn't pick out the right words to say; he knew what he'd say. Okay, that was a lie. He didn't know where to begin. He didn't know what he was even apologizing for. All he knew was what he wanted and that was Lucien. 

With his gaze never faltering from the structure, he pictured himself reuniting with Lucien and making up with him, as well as other things happening. 

He reached for the handle, ready to open the car door, but his eyes darted over to the house nearby. A mini van pulled into the driveway. The man who yelled at him the other night was exiting the front seat. Two children ran out of the back. They must have been his son and daughter. Then another man got out from the other side and met up with him. They shared a kiss before heading into the house.  

Ernest thought for a long time, looking back over at the shop. Glancing at the upstairs window where the curtain was still closed. With a sigh, he turned the engine back on and left the area, but he wasn't ready to go back home. Not just yet. 

Recalling how relaxing and beautiful his backyard was, he sat in the park for another hour, seeing the sun getting closer to setting. Dinnertime was approaching and he didn't need his dad to yell at him, but he didn't want to leave. He didn't want to deal with anything or anyone.

Taking one last look at the world around him, Ernest started for home. Arriving not long after, he saw that Craig's car was back, meaning that this place was no doubt going to be a madhouse. Upon entering, Ernest was already greeted with a smack on the butt. 

"Ow," he yelped as River ran by giggling. 

"Sorry," Craig mumbled, poking his head out from the kitchen. "Like I said before, I think she gets it from m-" 

"No, I don't want to hear it," Ernest interrupted, already feeling somewhat violated. He noticed the twins sitting on the couch, laughing about something. "Hazel. Briar." 

They stopped their conversation, glaring at Ernest who walked over to them. "What?" 

"I have a question about Carmensita." 

"What about her?" Hazel inquired.

"Is something wrong with her phone? I haven't seen her update at all in the past week and I tried calling, but it went straight to voicemail. Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine. She's just grounded," Briar revealed. "Her dad found out about the party, so he took her phone away." 

"What? How? When I left she said she was going to clean up," Ernest told them. 

"She did clean everything up, but he still found out. She won't tell us how because it was apparently too embarrassing." 

"Oh, okay." 

"Why do you wanna know?" Hazel interrogated.

"No reason. Just checking." 

"Is there s-" 

"Ow!" Ernest cried, once more as River ran by one more time, smacking him even harder on the butt. It was in the exact same spot as before. The girls started laughing. "Damn, it just gets worse every time." 

"You should check if you have a bruise," Hazel giggled. 

Glaring at her, Ernest marched upstairs, actually taking her advice. That River really had an arm on her. He didn't actually anticipate a bruise, but maybe some redness. Though, looking into his mirror, he found something else. 

Lowering his pants and boxers, he examined his bottom in the exact spot that River had assaulted him. It was red, but checking closer he could see a different set of marks. They were quite faded by now, but there were indistinct lines made up of ink, connecting to make something that was ultimately unfinished. 

Usually, he'd have a hard time remembering something like that, but with everything going on, it came back to him as quickly as ever. His mind was soon filled with a million thoughts, a million memories. Feeling overwhelmed, he started hyperventilating, backing up from the mirror and crashing into his dresser. 

Sliding to the floor, he saw that he accidentally knocked something over. Another piece of it had fallen off, but it was almost as if it was complete. Picking up the clay dog, examining the "DC" at the bottom, he started to remember. 

Then it all came back to him. 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, we are getting closer and closer to the end. As I mentioned before, there would be a chapter made up of almost entirely italics and we've arrived at that chapter. The italics denote a flashback, so brace yourself for that. This is a very important one, so I hope you like it.

 

_Briiiingg._

_The sound of the school bell signaled the day had come to an end and that it would soon be time for the fun to begin. Students rushed out of their classes, eager to get as far away from the premises as possible. Of course, not everyone had left so quickly._

_With the school year drawing to a close and only about a week left of classes, the seniors were taking in their surroundings for what may be their last time ever. They even went as far as to set up some events for the days leading up to graduation that would still take place on school grounds._

_There was a BBQ in the quad today for the seniors. It was their last chance to mingle and talk shit about their horrible teachers like Mr. Vega. Of course, there were those students who didn't really care for all the sentimental shit. One student in particular, wouldn't be in attendance._

_Waiting in the parking lot was Lucien Bloodmarch, checking the time on his phone while in the driver's seat of his new car. 'New' being a completely subjective term. He unlocked his phone and clicked on his most recent message thread, typing out a quick text._

_**You** **outta** **class yet?**   _

_Ernest read Lucien's text from under his desk. He couldn't quite respond yet with the answer Lucien wanted. Ernest was forced to stay after class for a few minutes. Apparently, you can't call your U.S. History teacher a dumb asshole._

_**Not yet. Give me a few minutes.**   _

_He managed to respond once the teacher turned around. Keeping an eye on her, he slyly slid his phone back into his pocket. Almost immediately, he felt it buzz again. The teacher, still preoccupied, Ernest reached for his phone once more. Lucien had texted again._

_**A few minutes? Dude, what did you do this time?**   _

_Ernest let out a slight giggle. Lucien always knew when he was getting into trouble._

_**It's dumb.** **I'll tell you later.**   _

_"Eh hem," he heard someone clear their throat a few inches away. Ernest looked up to see his teacher towering over him. She reached her hand out, beckoning for him to give up his phone._

_Now, without his phone, he wasn't able to tell Lucien that when he said a few minutes, he meant 30. His teacher extended his after school stay for another half hour, prompting several more texts from his friend that he was unable to answer, but could hear vibrating in the teacher's desk._

_About 30 minutes later, Ernest was released from his classroom, phone in hand. He was scrolling through what seemed like a hundred messages from Lucien. At the top were several questions of why he was taking so long and what was happening and then later in the messages, Lucien realized that Ernest probably was in trouble and figured it would be a while before he got to see him. His last message just explained that he would be waiting in the car._

_Escaping this metaphorical jail cell, they call school, Ernest headed out to the parking lot to find his friend. Lucien had just received a new car, well, a used car, but it was new to him. Ernest hadn't seen it yet, but he wasn't too surprised about it. It was very Lucien._

_It was also one of three options that weren't all that great. Lucien wasn't exactly excited about the choices, nor was he excited about getting a car in general. His father had forced him to take his driver's test because he was tired of driving Lucien's lazy ass around. He disguised this by stating that he'd get his son a car for graduation if he completed his test in time. Lucien figured, why not?_

_"Hey, what the fuck took you so long?" Lucien asked, as Ernest plopped into the passenger's seat._

_"Oh, you know. I talked back to the teacher in front of the whole class, so she made me stay after school and then while staying after school, I got caught using my phone which is like the number one rule of what not to do. After actually talking, of course," Ernest enlightened._

_"Was it that same teacher again? I feel like you piss her off a lot. What was her name again?"_

_"Becky."_

_"Becky?"_

_"Yep."_

_"You call your teacher Becky?" Lucien inquired._

_"Yes, she told us to," Ernest informed. "I mean, her government name is Ms. Loginovsky, but she just told us to call her Rebecca. She's one of those 'progressive' teachers that wants to get to know students on a more personal level, so she wants us on a first name basis. "_

_"So, you call her Rebecca?"_

_"Well, I don't. Everyone else does. I say Becky because it kind of gets on her nerves."_

_"You like getting under her skin, don't you?"_

_"She called Hugo handsome. I had to do something about her."_

_"That didn't mean you had to put a cherry bomb in her trash can," Lucien mentioned._

_"She's over that. It was so long ago," Ernest snickered._

_"That was at the beginning of the school year."_

_"Yeah, but we've moved past that."_

_"Then why did you she ask you to stay after?"_

_"Words may have been exchanged. Someone may have called someone else a dumb asshole."_

_"Seriously? You called her a dumb asshole."_

_"At least it wasn't the b-word."_

_"That doesn't make it any better."_

_"You want me to light your trash can on fire too?"_

_"You are such a fucking pyro," Lucien laughed. "Watch, one day you'll get caught for your arsonist tendencies and get your ass locked up."_

_"As long as you're there with me, I'll be fine."_

_Their eyes met, Lucien gripping the steering wheel harder than usual and Ernest wearing a slight smirk. Neither boy knew how long this would last or who would be the first to break._

_Bzzzt._

_Bzzzt._

_Of course, a phone call could really help with that. The boys averted their eyes as Ernest reached into his pocket for the buzzing device. The name **Hugo** glowed on the screen. It didn't take long for him to shove it back into his pants. _

_"Aren't you going to answer it?"_

_"What? The phone? No. He's probably just wondering where I am."_

_"Did you not tell him that you'd be hanging out with me today?"_

_"No. Why would I? I never tell him where I go," Ernest told him, as the vibrating stopped. Lucien gave him a weak smile. "Plus, he gets weird when I talk about you."_

_"Does he not like me or something?"_

_"He thinks you're a bad influence."_

_"I'm the bad influence? Has he met you?"_

_"He just doesn't like it when I hang out with you. He thinks we'll get into trouble or some shit."_

_"Hugo is a smart man."_

_"The last few times we've hung out, I may have told him I was studying."_

_"And he believed that?" Lucien questioned. Ernest nodded. They boys shared a laugh, considering how gullible their parents could be._

_After another minute and a few more missed phone calls, the boys were off. Lucien drove away from campus, taking a short look at it before it was out of view. Soon this place would be a distant memory to him. In a week's time, he and the other seniors wouldn't be students here anymore._

_In a way, it was bittersweet and a little sad to think about, but it didn't affect him much. He never really got close with any of his classmates. The only person he would talk to during his high school career was the guy sitting right next to him. Ernest was the only person who knew the real him and vice versa. There was so much more that he wanted to say to him and he hoped today would be the day._

_Lucien glanced at the backseat from his rear-view mirror, seeing his school bag as well as a plastic one filled with secret things that he decided to bring. He looked back over at Ernest who was preoccupied, playing games on his phone. The only sound in the car being the radio station they turned on, which only played mainstream pop music that he didn't know a single word to._

_It didn't take too long to get to their destination and especially at this time on a weekday, there would be no other occupants. Finding the closest parking spot, he stopped the car with the cemetery gates in full view. As expected, the boys were alone._

_In a cemetery, that would usually sound scary, but these two would come here to hang out a lot. It was basically their new spot. It belonged to them, as well as dozens of dead bodies._

_Lucien got the idea from when he used to come with his dad. At first, he thought it was weird that Damien wanted to have picnics in the cemetery late at night, but then Lucien found it very calming. He saw it as a great escape with no distractions._

_Ernest was reluctant at the beginning, which he usually is for anything, but he came around once he saw what Lucien saw in the place. His main reason for liking it being that no other people were in sight, but there was also horrible reception, so his father would never be able to contact him._

_It also didn't hurt that he got to be with Lucien._

_Grabbing the stuff out of the back, the boys went onward toward their graveyard adventure. Lucien had brought his picnic blanket from home, as well as a few other things to get the party started._

_With these boys, there was no such thing as a normal picnic. For normal people, picnic blankets are typically brighter colors like a red or blue with a checkered design. Lucien's was black. Just black. The darkest black you could find. Damien got it on sale from Dead, Goth and Beyond._

_With the basket all set up with a few of the plastic bags sat to the side, the boys finally took their seats on the blanket. Staring at the distant gravestones and smelling the pungent odor of death and decay, Ernest found a way to feel at peace. It was questionable, but it was a feeling he was accustomed to. Looking over at Lucien, he could see that he was enjoying the atmosphere just the same._

_There was a comfortable silence. It was fine between the boys; the sounds of the birds fill the air. It wasn't that they didn't want to talk, it was more of who would talk first? Who would begin the conversation? What would it be about? For how long would this topic be discussed? And after that, would more be said?_

_Neither of them wanted to overthink it, but they both thoroughly enjoyed talking to each other. They'd never say that aloud, though. Taking in a deep breath, Ernest extended his left hand, bumping his pinky into something. Looking over, he saw it was Lucien's hand. They both noticed, staring at their hands and then back at each other._

_Who would pull away?_

_"I made something," Lucien uttered, being the first._

_"You made something? You? Lucien Bloodmarch can make something?" Ernest inquired, half-joking._

_"Yeah, I made it in my art class," he said, digging through his backpack. He pulled a little clay statue out of his bag. "It's for you."_

_"What is it?" Ernest asked, examining the object._

_"It's a dog. A mastiff, to be specific," he told him, wondering if he'd get the hint._

_"Whoa," Ernest gasped, looking at the bottom of the dog. There was a little 'DC' under it. "It's Duchess Cordelia."_

_"I thought you'd like it."_

_"It's cool. Thanks."_

_The quiet had taken over them again. Apparently, his gift wasn't enough to keep Ernest's interest. He knew that there was something he'd be more receptive to._

_"So, I should show you what else I brought," Lucien spoke, once again breaking the awkward silence._

_"Oh, yeah. I'm excited," Ernest replied, hoping whatever else he had was way cooler. "I'm dying to see what you brought."_

_"Well, get ready to be deceased," Lucien smiled, taking out a few bottles of liquor from the plastic bags. "I brought some treats."_

_"Damn. Treats is an understatement. You got the fucking goods," Ernest cheered, clapping his hands. "How did you get all this alcohol? Don't you have to be old as fuck to buy it?"_

_"Old as fuck? You mean 21?"_

_"Yeah. Anything over 18 is old as fuck to me. Wait, did you get a fake ID?"_

_"You know for a fact that I already have a fake ID and it's shit. So, I got a new one."_

_"Awesome. What do we drink first?"_

_"I'll let you choose."_

_"Big mistake. You're fucked."_

_Ernest reached over to grab the vodka, his favorite of all poisons. He wasn't sure if Lucien would be as receptive, but as long as they had alcohol in them, it wouldn't matter. Lucien pulled out a couple red cups but Ernest had already shoved the whole bottle into his mouth._

_He wasn't going to be left behind so he took the bottle nearest to him and did the same. It wasn't long before both boys had completely emptied their drinks. With the other bottles dwindling down, the two of them were now officially drunk._

_Graveyard drunk._

_There was no telling what would be said next or if he either of them would even remember the events that would soon transpire. Ernest laid back on the blanket, not realizing how disoriented he was. Lucien did the same, lying down only a few inches away from his friend._

_He wouldn't know how to tell Ernest this, but he wasn't as drunk as him. He'd been drinking just like Ernest, but when he wasn't looking or was too out of it to comprehend, Lucien set out an extra red cup where he would spit the drink out, then pour it into the soil beside them. Some swigs were just harder for him to keep down._

_Don't get him wrong, Lucien was definitely under the influence. He wasn't as bad as Ernest; he could function a little better and probably recall whatever they talked about, even though it may not end up being too deep._

_He took a second to look at Ernest, who thrived on doing things that opposed authority. Doing things that he shouldn't because he didn't care what the law said. That's why he enjoyed this. An afternoon of underage drinking._

_Lucien was beginning to drift further away from that. Alcohol was starting to be less of an interest of his. It seemed like the older he got and the closer to the actual legal drinking age, he was more and more over it. He wished Ernest shared that sentiment._

_"You know what I fucking hate?" Ernest questioned, bottle in hand._

_"Everything?" Lucien answered, sitting up._

_"Everything. I fucking hate everything."_

_"You don't say."_

_"Yeah, everything sucks. Everyone sucks too. Oh, how I hate people. People suck the most."_

_"They do."_

_"Except for you, of course. You're the only cool person. You don't suck."_

_"Wow, that's high praise. Thanks."_

_"Seriously, you're the only person I like being around. I don't hate you. I could never hate you," Ernest stated, looking over at Lucien. Their eyes connecting once more. Lucien wasn't sure what he was supposed to say or do. Their faces were mere inches apart._

_"Same," he decided to utter. "I could never hate you either."_

_"Well, yeah, you blew off the other seniors to come hang out with me in a graveyard."_

_"Oh, that was a no brainer. You're way more interesting."_

_"What were they even doing today anyways? I could smell it from Becky's room."_

_"There was a Seniors-Only BBQ. It wasn't that big of a deal."_

_"Why didn't you go? I'd want the free food."_

_"I heard that they wouldn't have very many vegetarian options. I wasn't surprised. Nobody really thinks about us. It's fine."_

_"You could have at least gone to celebrate. You're graduating," Ernest reminded him. "You're almost out of that hellhole."_

_"I don't wanna be a part of that Kumbaya bullshit. Graduation doesn't even mean anything," Lucien responded, staring off in the distance. "I don't wanna go to some lame university."_

_"Ok. What do you wanna do?"_

_"You really wanna know?"_

_"Uh, yeah."_

_"Promise not to judge?"_

_"Just tell me!"_

_"I'm gonna be a motocross driver. Yeah, or maybe monster trucks."_

_"That's so cool."_

_"You don't seem to excited."_

_"No, I support you. I just think that you may have talents elsewhere. Look at this sculpture you did," Ernest mentioned, holding the dog. "You're an artist."_

_"So, you think I should be an artist? Paint you like one of my French boys?" Lucien kidded._

_"No, not just any type of artist. I can't see you doing paintings or sculptures."_

_"Then what?"_

_"I think you should be a tattoo artist."_

_"What? Really? Why that?"_

_"I don't know. It fits you. Plus, you've already done some tattoos, like the one on your arm," Ernest added._

_"Oh, the stick and poke. That's nothing," Lucien mumbled, receiving another thought. "Hey, remember when I tried to give you one and then your dad barged in and stopped us halfway."_

_"Holy shit. I forgot about that. I think I still kinda have it," he laughed, pulling his pants down slightly._

_"You just have a bunch of faded lines and dots on your ass. What was I trying to make?"_

_"A pizza roll."_

_"How do you think I did?"_

_"This is the shittiest tattoo I've ever seen."_

_The boys had a good chuckle after that, starting to eat the sandwiches that Lucien had made for them. He came prepared, knowing that Ernest's stomach could never be tamed. Each boy got a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, which seemed like the safest option due to Lucien's disinterest in meat._

_Lucien brought a few water bottles, to give them a more acceptable drink, but also to help sober them up. Ernest refused, draining the last bottle of tequila. PB &J and tequila was a new combo, even for him, but Lucien knew better than to say anything. _

_It wasn't long before the boys had finished their sandwiches and Ernest had completely emptied every bottle. One could assume that he had alcohol poisoning at this point. Lucien made sure to have the paramedics on standby just in case Ernest needed his stomach pumped._

_"Ya know," Ernest spoke up, examining the clay dog. "The more I look at it, the more I like it."_

_"That means a lot. I put so much work into it. I got a B plus," Lucien admitted. "And I know you really care about her."_

_"Yeah, Duchess is the best," Ernest replied, his facial expression morphing a bit. "Lately, she's been acting weird."_

_"Oh, no. Is something wrong with her?" Lucien asked, honestly worried._

_"Hugo thinks she's sick, but I believe she's fine. It's just a tiny little cold. She'll probably be feeling better in a few days."_

_"Yeah, that could be it. She was healthy and everything. My dad said she was well taken care of at the shelter."_

_"It was really awesome of your dad to let me have her."_

_"Don't mention it. That situation is still kind of funny. It wouldn't have happened if my dad hadn't been with-"_

_"Ugh, don't say his name."_

_"You know they're still dating."_

_"Still?"_

_"Yep, they were even talking about moving in together."_

_"Already?"_

_"You know, I had to spend spring break with Amanda because she came to visit her dad but he and Damien already had plans."_

_"That's why you couldn't hang out."_

_"Yep."_

_"See? Nothing good comes from that guy."_

_"I mean, he's not that bad. Why do you hate him so much?"_

_"Do you not remember when he used to be with Hugo? It happened like right after he and Amanda moved here. It sucked."_

_"I totally forgot about that."_

_"He just came in and started dating everyone and their dad. He was a bit of a whore."_

_"Did he do something to you?"_

_"Not particularly. He just tried to act like he was my dad. Telling me what to do and shit. So, I put a cherry bomb in his trash can too."_

_"Dude, you need to stop doing that. First Rebecca and now him?"_

_"What can I say? I have an issue with people liking my dad."_

_"Well, then that means you certainly did something to get back at your other dad for seeing something in Hugo?"_

_"That's different. He's cool," Ernest told him, changing his expression once more. "It's just that lately he hasn't had much time to spend with me. He's got a new boyfriend. This old guy."_

_"How old?"_

_"22."_

_"22? That's not old. I'll be 18 in a few months and then he'll just be four years older than me."_

_"Yeah. Pretty soon, you'll be old as fuck too."_

_Laughing once more, the silence soon came back. Ernest looked like he was ready to pass out, but it also looked like he could be deep in thought. Lucien couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He didn't seem happy with his life. So much was going on that he couldn't control._

_His father was becoming distant and Lucien remembered how happy Ernest was whenever he'd come back after the weekend. With a new guy in his life, Ernest was going to be pushed out of the way. Couple that with his sick dog which may end up being nothing, but for the time being was a concern._

_Then there was school, where Ernest wanted to be the least. Everything about it irked him. From the subject matter to the authority figures, he hated being there. Sometimes he wished that he could take a long vacation from it. He had no friends of his own and that was partly because he hated everyone. Lucien was the only person he talked to and in a week's time, he wouldn't be attending this school anymore._

_That's what Lucien thought of most. Would things be different after he graduated? He hoped not. To be honest, Ernest was the only person he talked to as well and even with them being in different stages in life, there was no reason that they couldn't stay close. In fact, after today he hoped that they would be even closer._

_Which brings him to the real reason behind this gathering. There was no easy way to say what he wanted to say, but there was a possibility that it could be reciprocated. Lucien had been waiting so long for this moment. It had to be perfect. He'd never done anything like this before, feelings weren't his forte. How did people normally do this? It was so hard to find an opening._

_Grrr._

_"You got any other food in there?" Ernest asked, rubbing his stomach. That boy was always hungry and the timing couldn't be more perfect._

_"Aw, sorry," Lucien muttered, rummaging through his bags. "All I've got are these."_

_Ernest's jaw dropped when he saw Lucien holding a sandwich bag full of pizza rolls. "Dude."_

_"They're probably cold by now, though."_

_"I don't care. Gimme!"_

_"Ah, ah."_

_"What?"_

_"You can have all the pizza rolls. First, I need something from you," Lucien stated, holding the bag high out of Ernest's reach._

_"What do you want? I'll do anything!" he shouted, clawing for the bag._

_"Anything?"_

_"Yeah, food is on the line. I'd do anything. You need me to be your personal servant? I'd even clean your house for food."_

_"Kiss me."_

_Lucien knew it was a bold choice. He didn't know how else to do it. The quiet wasn't helping much either. Ernest's expression was hard to place, which couldn't have been a good sign. Lowering the bag, Lucien's heart was pounding. He wondered if he'd made a mistake with everything today. Why did he have to open his big stupid-_

_Mouth._

_Ernest's mouth was now on his. His lips started moving, thus inspiring Lucien to move his. Soon the boys had their arms around each other. Falling onto his back, Ernest was now on top of Lucien. Their lips were now moving even more vigorously. Lucien didn't want it to stop, this was what he wanted for so long. He knew it wouldn't last._

_Almost immediately, Ernest jumped off of Lucien, wiping his lips. The look on his face not exactly something to be fond of. He wasn't saying anything, but he was starting to gather his things. Lucien moved closer to him, not sure what was going on. Ernest snatched the pizza rolls, tossing them into his bag._

_"Where are you going?" Lucien inquired._

_"I have to go," Ernest mumbled, starting to walk away._

_"What's wrong?" Lucien asked, running up to him, grabbing his arm._

_"Don't fucking touch me," he growled._

_"Did I do something? I mean, maybe I was being too forward, but I needed to let you know how I felt about you. I really like you, Ernest. More than anyone. More than anything. I thought you felt it too."_

_"You don't know what you're talking about."_

_"You just made out with me."_

_"That was for the pizza rolls."_

_"Okay, but you were-"_

_"Can you stop talking about it. Nothing happened."_

_"Ernest, why are y-"_

_"Shut the fuck up. Anything you thought you saw is wrong. I'm not like you. I'm not like that."_

_"Ernest-"_

_"Stay the fuck away from me."_

_That was the last thing he said to Lucien for more than two years. Of course, that wasn't the last time he'd seen or heard from him. Later that day, after Ernest walked home, Lucien tried calling and texting him. He even tried coming by a few times, but Ernest told Hugo to send him away._

_In the school hallways, Ernest would avoid him. He didn't even show up to Lucien's graduation where he had reserved a seat. He eventually blocked Lucien's number and deleted him off all social media, never intending to contact him again._

_Ernest started to get lonelier and lonelier. His weekends were usually property of his father, but that soon stopped when he moved away with his new boyfriend. He didn't even tell his son before he left. Ernest got a call once his father was already in Hawaii to tell him that he moved. There were no other calls after that._

_Ernest wasn't close to Hugo so the only friend he had left was Duchess and once her condition worsened, it was already too late. She was gone so quickly._

_Then Ernest was completely alone._

_Hugo could see this sudden change in Ernest and grew concerned. Since he wouldn't talk to him, Hugo decided to bring in other people to help. A horrible mistake on his part._

_T_ _he one thing that Ernest hated the most was adults trying to exercise authority over him._ _Telling him how to deal with his grief, what he should be spending his summer before junior year doing, how to manage his future and that he should transform himself into a better person so other people would want to be around him more. Amanda's dad was the main catalyst, trying to change him, acting as if he knew anything about Ernest because he and Hugo used to screw a few years ago._

_Ernest couldn't take it anymore._

_So, he did something he would soon regret..._

 

 

But that wasn't a subject he was ready to face just yet. Lucien, however. Ernest was finally acquainted with the truth. He understood his wrongdoings and could see that Lucien was the victim in this situation. He knew what he needed to do to fix it. 

 

"Ernest, dinner is ready," Hugo announced, barging into his room. 

"I remember everything," Ernest uttered. 

"Huh?" 

"I remember all of it." 

"What are you talking about? Remember what?" 

"I need to go talk to Lucien." 

"Ernest, I'm confused. What about dinner?" 

"Sorry, dad. I have to go," Ernest said, heading out of his room." 

"Ernest!" he heard Hugo call to him. "Wait, did you just call me dad?" 

 

Snatching the keys off the table, he headed out. Next stop, Bloodmarch Tattoo and Body Piercing. There was no time for distractions. Lucien was the only thing that mattered right now and Ernest hoped he could forgive him. 


	10. Chapter 10

 

"Lucien, I'm back! It's me, Ernest. Ignore me all you want. This time, I'm not leaving until you talk to me! I don't care how long it takes. I don't care who I wake up." 

 

That last part may have been a bit of an embellishment. Recalling what occurred last time with the guy next door, Ernest feared that he'd get yelled at again. It wasn't him that he was afraid of, but seeing his husband the other day, there was something to be scared of. He was a big guy, but regardless, Lucien should've gotten the point. 

Ernest wasn't going anywhere. He sure wished he would've brought snacks or something because this could easily turn into an all-nighter. Skipping out on a nice home-cooked dinner wasn't a smart move, so this better be worth it. 

Checking the time on his phone, Ernest realized he hadn't even been there an hour. It felt like five. The sun had barely set, everyone was still awake. Lucien wouldn't go to bed this early, not even on his day off. He wasn't out either. His car was parked right in front of the shop. This was him choosing to ignore Ernest again. 

It was amazing how much he could take. Ernest wondered how he did it. Coming by every night and yelling outside for a few hours, Lucien obviously heard him. How was he so good at ignoring it? Was he drowning it out with music? Had he actually fallen to sleep with all the ruckus? Perhaps, it was earplugs. 

There had to be some way for him to crack. If he was listening, then maybe he hadn't heard what he wanted to hear. Ernest was more determined than ever to get him to come out and talk. The words he would use were still being constructed, but he was aware of the past and ready to take full responsibility for it. Maybe that was what he could say. 

 

"Lucien, I remember!" he shouted. "I remember everything. All of it. I remember what I did to you in high school. I know I fucked up. I've made so many mistakes in my life and what I regret most is what I did to you. I take full responsibility for my actions." 

 

He paused, wondering if that was enough to get Lucien to see him. A minute goes by and nothing. He had to press on. 

 

"I should've never accused you of breaking communication with me. You never did anything wrong. It was me. I was the one who did it. I was the one who hurt you. I was the one who was afraid of how I really feel." 

 

Another pause, then nothing. His eyes never wavered from the building. He still had hope that Lucien would at least appear and allow him to apologize. 

Wait, that was it. That's what he's waiting for. An apology. A real one. Ernest previously apologized for what happened at the party, even though that wasn't the actual problem. Lucien wanted an apology for what occurred back in high school. 

 

"I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for avoiding you, for ignoring you, for blocking your number and for trying to make it your fault. I'm sorry for how I treated you when the real problem was that I couldn't accept myself. I'm sorry for breaking your heart..." 

 

Ernest needed a moment to catch his breath. His eyes seemed like they would be flooded with tears any second. He could feel his hands start to shake. 

 

"...And I'm sorry for never telling you how I truly feel about you." 

 

A moment passed by. He was sure that he would see Lucien soon. Nothing happened. His head fell down, defeated. 

 

"Get inside before someone tells you to shut up again." 

"Huh?" he uttered, looking back up to see Lucien at the door. 

"Hurry up," Lucien whispered, gesturing for him to come inside. 

"Wait, 'again?' Were you listening when your neighbor told me to shut the fuck up the other night?" 

"Yep, it was hilarious." 

"Okay, I deserved that," Ernest grumbled. "But you've been listening? You've been hearing me." 

"Of course, I have. You're hard to ignore." 

For the first time in a long time, Ernest smiled. Unfortunately, Lucien didn't do the same. Quickly, the intensity came back. Neither of them really knowing how to go about the conversation. Realistically, it wasn't really Lucien's place to say anything. Ernest was the one who needed to do the talking. 

"So..." He began. 

"Ugh," Lucien uttered, rolling his eyes. After locking the front door, he headed toward the stairs. 

"Um-" 

"Are you coming?" 

Lucien turned to Ernest before ascending up the staircase. Their eyes met for a split second. Was he inviting him upstairs? If so, what for? He'd never been up there before. As far as he knew, it was a forbidden area. Nobody was allowed. 

This instance was different. Lucien wasn't exactly giving him the most welcoming of tones, still wearing a stern look, but he was definitely giving Ernest permission into his sacred area. Sacred, was a little bit of an overstatement. It was just his bedroom, kitchen and bathroom. Lucien basically had an entire studio apartment right above his tattoo shop. It was pretty rad. 

Ernest followed Lucien to an old sofa that was placed in front of a large television set. He had the feeling they wouldn't be sitting down to enjoy some Netflix. Lucien took a seat on the further end with Ernest finding the opposite spot.  

There was a bout of silence. Lucien, obviously not in the position to talk, kept his eyes on Ernest. He came over because he wanted to do the talking. So why wasn't he? 

His breaths were quick and his eyes were darting around the room for no particular reason. Lucien was still staring at him, perhaps as a form of intimidation, or just because he was waiting. This was getting all too real. Ernest wanted this to happen. He wanted to see Lucien and speak with him, but now he was here and for some reason, he couldn't speak. 

"Are you gonna say anything?" Lucien asked, breaking the extremely uncomfortable silence. 

"Yeah, sorry," Ernest responded, linking eyes with him. 

"What for?" 

"For everything." 

"Everything?" Lucien echoed. "What's everything." 

"You know," Ernest mumbled, giving him a painful look. He was doing a horrible job. This apology sucked. "Okay, aside from all the bullshit. I am truly sorry. Seriously. I am a sack of shit and I don't deserve to know someone like you, especially with the way I treated you. You shouldn't even want to talk to me, but I'm glad you are." 

Lucien shifted in his seat, still leering at Ernest. It didn't look like he'd be doing much talking. That was fine, as long as he was listening. 

"I know that this isn't the root of the problem, but I wanted to start by apologizing for my misconduct at the party. It was completely inappropriate of me to go completely against our no drinking pact and to behave like such an asshole when I was drunk. I shouldn't have said those things to you at the end of the night or excused you of being the one to cut contact between us. It was me. It was all my fault. I understand that now and I am also very sorry for doing it in the first place." 

The silence was soon present again and even more uncomfortable than before. Ernest had more to say, but he wanted to get some kind of reaction from Lucien. It was so hard to read his face. There was no telling what he was thinking or if this was even working. Was he wasting his breath? 

He decided to continue on. The apology was far from over.  

"And going back to when we stopped talking, I remember that day. Even though I was so fucking wasted, I remember everything that went on. Everything I said. What I did to you," Ernest stated, scooting a little closer to him. 

"When you were yelling outside, you brought up the way you felt about me," Lucien mentioned, moving further away. 

"I was getting to that," Ernest smiled. Lucien didn't reciprocate. "I was gonna say I'm so sorry about how I handled that. It had nothing to do with you. It was me. It was my internal shit. It was something that I needed to confront about myself. Something that I couldn't quite accept yet." 

Their eyes met again. 

"And I didn't say 'felt,' I said feel. How I feel about you. How I still feel about you," he added, grabbing Lucien's hands. They were quickly snatched away. 

"Then why did you do it? Why did you stop talking to me?" Lucien interrogated. 

"That's a loaded question. A lot happened. It's kind of a long story." 

"Lucky for you, we have all night." 

"Okay, well, I don't know where to start..." 

"I do. Start with why you kissed me and then iced me out." 

"I kissed you because you told me to." 

"Do you do everything I tell you to do?" 

"Well, no, but-" 

"Then why did you kiss me and run away after? Then stop talking to me for years." 

"I kissed you because I wanted to. As for the running away; like I said, I wasn't honest with my feelings. That was because I couldn't quite accept myself and that's my own personal issue," Ernest told him. 

"I mean, I get it," Lucien said to him, scooting back closer. "It took me a while too. Just the way you handled it wasn't so great." 

"I know, and for that I am also sorry. I would blame it on every closet case being homophobic in some way, but that's still no excuse. I guess for me it stems from..." 

He trailed off, head down, disconnecting for a second. Lucien was quiet once again, allowing Ernest to collect his thoughts. 

"My father," he finally uttered. 

"Your father? Which one?" Lucien questioned. 

"Both. And your father too." 

"What do our dads have to do with it?" 

"Because they're gay and so are we." 

"I don't really like using that word. I told you, I'm not into labels." 

"And I get that, but I also disagree because it describes me. It is who I am," Ernest gulped. "I'm gay and that's just it. There's nothing wrong with it." 

"You're right, but I'm still confused about why you bring up our dads." 

"It's just that gay parents already get enough shit for being gay. People already don't accept them and the biggest stigma is that if they have children, that those children will turn gay simply because they are. As a child of gay parents who is, in fact gay, I just don't want them to go through that. Especially, since I already put Hugo through so much." 

"So, you do care about him." 

"What?" 

"Hugo. You love him." 

"What? Ew, no-" 

"You act like you don't, but you actually appreciate what he does for you," Lucien interrupted. "You love him, you just have a funny way of showing it." 

"Well, just in general, I have a funny way of showing people I love them," he said, looking at Lucien. That word causing another session of quiet. Lucien looking as if he had no idea what to say. Ernest wanted to tell him that he didn't mean that, but that would be a lie. "Okay fine, Hugo has been through some shit and I definitely didn't make it easy for him. He's my dad and so I care about him. Whatever." 

"That's cute," Lucien added, looking away. Now, he had uttered something somewhat embarrassing that was left to float in space. Of course, Ernest had the stronger of the two. There was usually no recovering from the 'l' word. "Have you told him that lately?" 

"Told him what?" 

"You know." 

"I don't think I've told him that ever." 

"Well, maybe you should." 

"That's something for another time. This isn't about him. It's about you and me." 

"But, that's part of it, isn't it? You said you'd tell me the whole story." 

"I guess." 

"How do you feel about Hugo and Craig?" 

"At first, I didn't get it. It was such a weird pairing, but I've had time to get to know Craig. He's a cool guy. I'm happy for them. I'm glad they're getting married. They both deserve it," Ernest told him. 

"Oh, I almost forgot that they were getting married," Lucien recalled. "My dad called when they sent out the Save The Dates. That was a while ago. The wedding is coming up pretty quickly. He and my step-dad were gonna go. I think Amanda will be in attendance as well." 

"A-Amanda? And her dad," he stuttered. 

"Yeah, I feel like you always get weird whenever I mention Amanda or her dad," Lucien whispered. "That reminds me, when I was talking to my dad, he mentioned something that I'm kind of confused about." 

"He did?" 

"He and I were talking about going to the ceremony together and I told him that I had recently reconnected with you and was probably going with you. Well, that was before everything, but that's beside the point. When I said your name, he said that he forgot that you were out? I asked him what he meant by 'out,' but he had to go. Out of what?" 

"Well, that brings me to the last part," Ernest swallowed. "Remember when you asked me why I stopped talking to you for years? Well, I didn't mean for it to be years, but that was out of my control. I didn't really have a choice. I was in juvie." 

"Ernest, stop fucking with me." 

"I'm dead serious. I got locked up and I didn't see anyone for over two years." 

"For what?" 

"You can probably guess." 

Lucien put on his thinking face, but it didn't take him too long to come up with something. "Who did you set on fire?" 

"No one, but you're in the right ballpark." 

"I fucking knew it. I told you that you were a fucking pyro and one day you'd pay for it." 

"Yep." 

"So, what did you do?" 

"Um, well this part started right after we stopped talking. I isolated myself from everyone because of my own personal issues. I basically only hung out at home and then with my dad on the weekends. Then that stopped." 

"Did something happen to your dad?" 

"Remember when I told you about that guy he was dating?" 

"Oh yeah, the one you called 'old' despite the fact that we are approaching that age," Lucien laughed. 

"Uh huh," Ernest smiled. "I definitely take that back now." 

"Good to know." 

"But my father ended up getting hitched to him and they moved to Hawaii. He didn't tell me until after he was already there and since then, I have not heard from him." 

"Oh, Ernest-" 

"And then on top of that, Duchess only had few weeks left in her. It was more than a small cold. Much more." 

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know." 

"So, I was alone, not talking to anyone or leaving the house. Hugo did what any annoyingly overbearing parent would do and tried getting other adults to talk to me." 

"Like who?" 

"Your stepdad." 

"Really? Why?" 

"Well, he and Hugo used to date when he first moved to Maple Bay. Back then, he tried to act like my dad and tell me what to do and shit. Since he kinda failed doing that with Amanda, being the 'cool' dad when she was growing up, he figured why not try this time." 

"Doesn't he know that you have a problem with people exercising authority over you?" 

"At that point, it wasn't an official diagnosis." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Well, when I was in juvie they brought in doctors to figure out if there was some other cognitive issue. There was. They diagnosed me with O.D.D." 

"What's that? Is it like O.C.D.?" 

"No, it's Oppositional Defiant Disorder. It's found in children who are disobedient at home or school and are quick to rebel or lose their temper around others, especially authority figures," Ernest snickered, weakly. "They hit the nail on the head with that one." 

"Ernest, mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of. The fact that you are willing to be open about it is already huge and I'm proud of you for it," Lucien consoled. 

"Thanks," he sniffled, trying to hold back tears. "I haven't told anyone that since I've been out. Then again, I don't really know anyone to tell." 

"Well, you don't have to tell a soul if you're not comfortable." 

"I know, but it's important that I accept it. It kinda perfectly describes my situation." 

"It does," Lucien agreed. "At least, now we know why you act the way you act. It was never really under your control." 

"Yeah, but also having a dad that named you Ernest Hemingway Vega could play a part. Who wouldn't rebel with such a stupid name?" Ernest groaned. 

"I wouldn't say stupid. Maybe-" 

"Dumb?" 

"Unique." 

"We'll agree to disagree." 

"You know you still haven't told me exactly how you wound up in juvie," Lucien pressed on. 

"Damn it, I thought I successfully dodged the question." 

"Does it have to do with Amanda or her dad?" 

"Maybe." 

"Ernest." 

"I set his car on fire," he confessed. 

"Holy shit." 

"Nobody was in it, but it was big enough to cause some extra damage. Some trees and garbage cans and shit." 

"Ernest, that could have caused a wild fire and killed a lot people." 

"You don't think I fucking know that? I did it over two years for it. I've had time to reflect." 

"I feel like endangering a whole town would give you more than two years." 

"Same, but they tried me as a minor and with the diagnosis, they allowed me to go to a treatment facility once a week. I got a deal that lasted less than two years, but they also gave me the option of having it expunged from my record and clearing any criminal offences if I waited until I was 18 to get out. We decided to do that. It was a long and lonely two years." 

"You weren't all alone. Hugo probably visited you like every day." 

"Nope, not once." 

"What? I'm so sorry Ernest. I had no idea. If I would've known then-" 

"It's okay. It's fine. It's over. We're here now. That's everything that happened." 

"That day you first showed up on my doorstep, was that like right after you got out?" 

"That was the exact day. My birthday." 

"Why didn't you tell me?" 

"Well, as you can see, there was a lot to tell." 

Before he knew it, Lucien had pulled him into an embrace. There was no question that he returned the favor. They stayed together for another minute, not saying another word. The only sounds they could hear were their hearts beating against each other. 

"I forgive you," Lucien whispered, still pressed up against him. "But mostly because I need you stop coming around here every fucking night and yelling outside for hours. The neighbors are complaining to me." 

"That's what you get for having your tattoo shop in a residential area," Ernest countered, as they split apart. Lucien glared at him. "Kidding. I know you didn't have a choice." 

"Ernest." 

"Okay, I'm sorry for that too." 

"But just so you know, things aren't just gonna go back to the way they used to be. I still need some time and maybe some space." 

"I understand. Take all the time you need." 

"Thanks." 

"I should probably get going then. I ditched out on dinner with my dad. He said he was gonna ask me something special." 

"Ooh. What are you gonna say?" Lucien inquired, acting as if he knew something Ernest didn't. 

"I don't know. I'm not even sure what the question is," Ernest said, more confused than before. 

"Really?" 

"Is it supposed to be obvious or something?" 

"You'll find out soon enough," Lucien mumbled. 

"I hate this," Ernest sighed, digging his hands in his pocket. His eyes widened, as he remembered what was inside. Gripping it tightly, he slowly pulled out the clay statue of Duchess Cordelia. "Oh, I almost forgot." 

"Oh my god. I can't believe you kept that." 

"Eh, it's all fucked up now." 

"That doesn't matter. All that matters is that you have it." 

"If I'm being honest, I forgot I had it. I found it when I got out." 

"You don't have to keep it if you don't want to. I'm just happy to see it again." 

"No, it's special. I'll hold onto it for as long as I can." 

With one last hug, they decided that this night of excitement was to come to an end. Ernest headed for the exit, but was stopped by a tugging on his arm. He felt a hand intertwined in his. 

"Oh, and same," Lucien added. 

"Same what?" Ernest inquired." 

"What you said earlier. I feel the same." 

Ernest didn't need to hear anything more. He knew exactly what Lucien was alluding to and it was the perfect way to end this visit. He left out the front door wearing the biggest, cheesiest smile. Lucien had forgiven him and it was everything. 

 

Not long after, Ernest was finally home. Seeing as it was a little later than he intended, he figured nobody would be awake anymore. He felt bad about missing out on his dad's dinner, but he also didn't feel bad enough to really care. He was still working on that part. Plus, Craig was the one that usually did the cooking. It was likely that he prepared everything. 

Opening the door, he could smell the wonderful scents of the kitchen. Hopefully they had leftovers. Setting the car keys down on the counter, he scoured the refrigerator for any containers. Score. There was so much. It seemed like they had a huge dinner tonight. This made him a little sad that he missed it, but only a little. 

Out of nowhere, the kitchen lights turned on. "Ernest?" 

Halfway through the mac and cheese, Ernest turned to see his father standing in the doorway. He finished chewing since he really didn't have anything else to lose at this point. Hugo leaned against the wall, watching his son stuff his face. 

"You know, we also made loaded pizza pasta casserole," Hugo informed. 

"You made what?" Ernest inquired, excitedly opening the fridge back up. He grabbed the container that looked like pizza stuffed into a lasagna body. It was the greatest thing he'd ever seen. "Wait, did you say we?" 

"Yep." 

"I thought Craig was the one that did all the cooking because somehow he's good at it." 

"Well, I wanted tonight to be special so I decided to try and help him. He's been teaching me a few things. Even teachers need to be taught sometimes." 

"Can I trust this?" 

"The other kids seemed to really like it. I only really cared about your opinion. I figured since it was pizza flavored that you would enjoy it," Hugo told him. 

"I can't wait to try it," Ernest replied, digging into it. With a half-smile, Hugo slowly turned around, heading out of the kitchen. Before he could take a step, he felt something around him. "Thanks, dad." 

It was Ernest. His arms wrapped around his father's waist. It would seem he was trying to give him a hug. Hugo angled his body, so the two of them could share a proper embrace. Neither of them saying anything for what seemed like an hour, but really only lasting a few minutes. It was the longest they had ever shared any type of connection, so that could be why it felt like forever. Not wanting it to end, they both decided to hold on for a bit longer. 

"I love you, dad," Ernest uttered. Hugo didn't mean to, but he let out the largest gasp. It was a surprising sentence. "I'm so sorry." 

"For what?" Hugo queried. 

"For everything I've said to you. For everything I've done to you. I'm really sorry for the way I've treated you my whole life. You didn't deserve it. You were only trying to be a good dad." 

"Ernest, you don't have to-" 

"And you are." 

"I am?" 

"You are. All you've done your whole life is love me, despite me being the worst kid." 

"I wouldn't say you were the worst..." 

"Oh, no I was. I was an asshole. I mean, I'm still probably going to be an asshole. It's just who I am, but that doesn't mean I don't care about you. You're my dad. You mean more to me than you know." 

Hugo was speechless, mostly because he simply couldn't get a word out through the tears. He had taken his glasses off, wiping his eyes with his shirt. Ernest looked away, afraid that he'd start to cry once again, but it was too late. His eyesight was getting foggy and his hands starting shaking. 

"I love you too, son." 

They embraced once more, this time only for a few seconds. Clearing their faces of tears, they gave each other a warm smile. A real one. Not one of Ernest's sneaky smirks. This was a genuine moment between them. It couldn't be broken by anything. 

 

 _Grrr_ _._  

 

Except for maybe Ernest's perpetual hunger.  

"Uh..." 

"You should eat." 

They headed back over to the leftover casserole. Hugo decided he wanted some as well so they heated it up and found their seats at the dining room table. Just the two of them. 

"I'm also really sorry for missing out on dinner. I know you wanted us altogether as a family." 

"Oh, no. Don't worry about that. It wasn't a big deal anyway." 

"Didn't you want to ask me something?" 

"It can wait till the morning." 

"Are you sure? It seemed important." 

"It's nothing." 

"Come on. You can ask me right now," Ernest chewed. 

"Um, okay," he cleared his throat. "Well, you know the wedding is coming up. Craig and I will soon be married. He'll be your stepdad." 

"I'm aware." 

"Well, I know that when you got out, all of this was so new to you. Everything that you knew before was taken away from you and you were forced to deal with everything thrown at you." 

"Uh huh." 

"I'm just saying that despite all of the obstacles, you're doing well. You passed your driving test, you got a job, you're making friends again and you've really come around to liking Craig. I mean, you two are getting along really well." 

"Can you get to the point?" 

"So, I wasn't sure at first because I didn't know how you'd feel about it but-" 

"Dad!" 

"Will you be my best man?" 

Ernest locked eyes with his father, not saying a word. Of all the things he could be asked, he didn't expect this to be it. The wedding was fast approaching so it made a lot of sense, but why him? What did he know about being a best man? He wasn't the best at anything. Why would his father ask him to do this? 

His silence was going on for a little longer than expected. Hugo was staring at him with a worried expression. Ernest needed to say something. That was the hard part. Not even the smallest word would come out of his mouth. Luckily, his father could detect his dilemma. 

"I just can't think of anyone else for the job. It would mean the world to me if you could be my best man," Hugo expressed. In that moment, Ernest knew there was only one thing to say. 

"Yes," he uttered, nervously. 

"Really?" 

"Yeah, I can tell that it's really important to you." 

"Thank you." 

"No problem." 

"Well, it's getting pretty late. I should get some shut eye. You should do the same."  

"I'll head up in a little bit." 

 

Without another word, Hugo was gone. Finishing his food, Ernest turned off the kitchen light and headed up to his room. So many unexpected things happened tonight, but he was glad they did. Everything in his life seemed to be okay. For the first time, well, ever.  

Naturally, this made Ernest skeptical. He and Lucien were back on speaking terms, he and his father were good and he was now a best man. Usually, when someone's life is going this great, there is something wrong that they are unaware of. Something that they still need to work on. Ernest couldn't quite figure out what it was. 

He was also very tired, so right now wasn't the best time to think about it. Getting into his bed, he put this night behind him in hopes for a better tomorrow. 

 

Over the next week, Ernest's life consisted of work and wedding preparations. Well, he didn't really have to deal with the preparations himself, but his father was in wedding overdrive. With only about two weeks left until the ceremony, Hugo was starting to freak out. Not everyone had RSVP'd yet and he was still waiting on his tux to come in. 

To help with de-stressing his father, Ernest took him out for dinner the nights he had off from Pete's. It was a great way for them to continue their bonding and to make sure Hugo didn't descend into a deep, dark hole. He wanted to believe it was working. 

In other news, Ernest hadn't heard a single word from Lucien. No texts, no calls, no social media presence. It was concerning since the boys had appeared to squash everything that was wrong between them. Ernest didn't want to think that he misread the whole situation. There were hugs, there were tears. He did recall Lucien saying that he needed time and space, so he gave him just that. 

Near the end of the week, Lucien had finally reached out to Ernest. First, letting him know that he was ready to talk to him again, making Ernest very happy. Then requesting a task of him. He asked Ernest if he'd like to have dinner with him and his family. Ernest instantly responded. 

 

 **Yeah, I like food. Sounds good.**  

 

Ernest waited for his reply, wondering why Lucien seemed to be making such a big deal out of a simple dinner. Then his phone buzzed. 

 

 **Cool. I'll see you Sunday night.**  

 

Ernest smiled at his phone upon viewing the response. He was ready to type back when Lucien texted again. 

 

 **Also, I forgot to mention that the reason we're having this dinner is**   **because my dad and** **stepdad** **are**   **coming back from vacation and they wanted to get the whole family together.** **So, Amanda and her dad** **are**   **gonna** **be there too! Ok**   **bye!**  

 

Ernest's eyes widened while observing the message. Taking in quick breaths, he needed a few minutes to process. 

 

 **Wait, what?**  

 

 **Lucien!**  

 

Throwing his phone to the side, he laid back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. His heart was pounding faster than it had ever done before. He just agreed to meeting up face to face with the guy whose car he torched. 

Then he realized... this was the missing piece.  

He had been able to make everything else right in his life, but there was only one thing left. The big thing. He had to apologize to them for what he did. There was no telling if they'd actually forgive him, but that wasn't the point. It had to be done. He needed to clear his conscience.  

He just wished he had more time to prepare. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I just wanted to say thank you again for checking out my story. I've loved getting feedback from you and it feels amazing to have all of your continuous support. It's been a great ride, but unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. Two chapters left! Enjoy!


	11. Chapter 11

 

 _Knock. Knock. Knock._  

 

"You ready?" 

 

It was a loaded question. Ernest was indeed ready, clothing wise. He was dressed in the fanciest attire he could find in his closet. Meaning that he wasn't wearing a hoodie and jeans. He had a nice white button up shirt with dress pants that somehow still fit him despite him only wearing them once, many years ago. Hugo suggested that he wear a tie, but that was pushing it. He was already wearing the oxfords that were collecting dust in his closet from when his father forced him to go to church when they first moved to Maple Bay.  

Long story. 

The details don't need to be hashed out, but since you asked. Hugo was fresh off of his divorce and Joseph was the first decent looking man to compliment his glasses. He had a crush on him for like a week after that. Forcing Ernest to attend church with him and hang out with Joseph's devil children. Feelings quickly faded away once Hugo realized how much work it was to be a Christian, as well as how scary Joseph's wife Mary was. Hugo didn't want to deal with a married man, no matter how much he made him feel like a boy again. 

So, Ernest has had this outfit for about five years and it still fit. Shows you how much he's grown in that time. Not very much. 

That's not important right now. What's important is that Lucien Bloodmarch is standing in the doorway and Ernest is wearing nice clothes and Lucien is asking if he is ready, but no, he is not ready. He is not emotionally ready for the events that are set to occur today. He is not mentally in the right state of mind to do what he promised he'd do today. 

Lucien gave him a concerned glance, reaching out and saying something that Ernest couldn't quite register. The loudest sound he could hear was his heart pounding in his ears. His eyes darted over to the calendar just above the counter. It was Sunday, circled in red. There was no way around it. 

Ernest felt like he was going to faint. Actually, fainting didn't seem like such a horrible idea right now. He just needed to pass out right here. Maybe hit his head on something to make it more authentic. Lucien would have no choice but to rush to Ernest's side and cancel all dinner plans that he may have with his father and/or stepfather.  

Unfortunately, Ernest was of perfect health. Well, as perfect as a diet of carbonated beverages and pizza rolls could get you.

Examining Lucien's face, he couldn't quite tell what the boy was thinking. It would seem that he had his reservations about the situation as well.  

"I am so ready," he uttered, in the strangest way. Lucien raised an eyebrow. 

"Are you su-" 

"Could you just give me like one second?"  

"I guess." 

The two stood in the doorway, only staring at each other. Lucien was unsure of what Ernest wanted him to do. 

"I mean, like I need to get something really quick." 

"Okay..." Lucien mumbled, narrowing his eyes. 

"Could you wait in the car, please?" Ernest asked, slowing shutting the door. Lucien didn't really have a choice at this point. He started heading away from the house. As soon as he was far enough away, Ernest closed the door completely, running over to his father who was cuddled up on the couch with Craig, both getting ready to enjoy a kid-free Sunday. 

"What is it, son?" Hugo asked, sliding further from Craig. 

"I'm nervous. I don't know if I'm ready," he admitted. 

"Ernest, of course you're ready. It's been years. I'm not saying that it'll be easy or that he probably forgot about it, but you doing this is enough." 

"Yeah, I guess you're right." 

"Listen, little dude. You and I haven't had a bunch of time to get close, but I know you enough to tell you that you can do this, bro," Craig chimed in. Ernest gave him a weak smile, turning toward the door. He could see through the window that Lucien was sitting patiently in his car.  

Letting out an annoyed sigh, he grabbed his coat and reached for the door. Craig and Hugo bid him farewell as he was exiting, somewhat worried about Ernest, but more excited to have peace to watch the new episode of "Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Ghost Truckers." 

Ernest met Lucien's gaze, trudging up to the vehicle. The tone of the ride was about the same, silent and maybe a little tense. The only sounds of the car were the music playing, but it was unfamiliar to Ernest, so he didn't pay much attention to it. Lucien seemed really into the songs, but he played them from his phone so it wasn't surprising. 

As they approached the cul-de-sac, Ernest could feel his heart doing the pounding again. The closer the vehicle got, the more he felt unprepared. Perhaps, that wasn't the right word. Rather, he felt uneasy. Like he might throw up right here in Lucien's car. He was completely prepared, or as prepared as one can be when they are forced to apologize to the man whose car they torched. 

There really was no right or correct way to go about this situation.

They stopped right in front of the Bloodmarch resident. Parking close, hopefully meaning they could make a quick escape if things start to go south fast. Ernest looked up at the structure, envisioning when Lucien used to live here. He looked over at him and he could tell he was remembering it as well. 

Ernest had been over a few times when he was younger, mostly to get away from his father, but the boys would mostly hang out at the park or school. Damien and Hugo were pretty good friends, so his father would find out whenever he was hiding out here. 

Come to think of it, he hadn't seen Damien at all in the past couple of years. His house still looked the same, but that didn't mean that he was. What if he wasn't into Victorian shit anymore? What if his hair was short?  

Oh god, he couldn't think about that. 

Not his luscious locks! That was the one identifying feature of Damien's to distinguish him from Lucien. If their hair was the same length, nobody would be able to tell the difference between them. Well, that's not entirely true, but the people around here are so two-dimensional that they probably couldn't allow their brains to function in such a way. 

Luckily, that wasn't the case.  

As soon as Lucien turned the car off, the front door to the Bloodmarch manor swung open. Damien stood with perfect posture and the same hair length, awaiting their exit from the vehicle. Ernest just wanted to wait in the car and breathe because this just got way too real, way too fast. 

What if it wasn't Damien who opened the door? What if they were greeted by the man he hurt those many years ago? There was no doubt that he was inside, also awaiting their arrival. Ernest would give anything for just a few more minutes in the car with his friend. 

"Hey, dad. Do you think you could just give us a minute?" Lucien called out to Damien, understanding Ernest's silence. His father nodded, heading back inside. 

"Thanks," he muttered, slowing his breathing. His eyes were soon closed. This was one of tricks that he used to make things seem not as bad as they were. The darkness helped him distance himself from the horrible circumstances he was put in. It was his only friend, his only solace during the time he was separated from reality. 

His eyes shot open, gliding down to his hands. Another hand on top of them, the owner of it being Lucien. He wore a warm, comforting smile. "You know, you don't have to do this if you don't want to," Lucien empathized. 

"Wait, really?" he asked, excitedly. There was a small glimmer of hope. 

"No," Lucien stated, the smile leaving his face. "We're already here. My dad literally just saw us. You agreed to do it. You're doing it." 

And then the glimmer of hope disappeared just like that. "Fuck you." 

"If you need some more time to gather your thoughts, I know a place." 

"Ok." 

"But we need to go inside the house to get there." 

"What if I see-" 

"You're going to see them. You don't have to say anything until dinner. Just a polite hello for now, or not. It's all up to you." 

"Isn't dinner like right now." 

"My dad is good at a lot of things. Punctuality being one of them, with the exception of food preparation." 

"What? The great Damien Bloodmarch has a flaw?" 

"Actually no, he's good at everything. The truth is that he probably forgot that you weren't a vegetarian and panicked because he didn't have any meat products in the household." 

"I don't just eat meat..." Ernest said weakly. Lucien leered at him. "Okay, fine." 

"So, we might not have dinner for another hour or so," Lucien told him. 

"Well, this is the first time I'm happy that I have to wait to eat." 

"Wanna go inside now?" 

 

A moment later, the boys were heading through the front door. Ernest kept behind Lucien, acting as if he could shield him from any negative energy. Also, hoping that he could just hide behind him, since Lucien was a bit taller. 

Making it to the dining room, the table was set, with no one to be found. Music was playing throughout the room, but not the kind he liked. It seemed like some sort of meditation soundtrack. It didn't sit so pleasantly with Ernest, he would've preferred no sound at all.  

Damien exited the kitchen, wearing an apron. His smile was as warm and welcoming as Ernest remembered. He wasn't the one to be afraid of. They greeted each other with short hellos. Ernest was a bit distracted, checking around the room for anyone else. His eyes marked each exit and entrance, switching between them to be ready for anything.  

"Oh, they went out to fetch some more ingredients," Damien told his son. "Amanda decided she couldn't go without meat." 

"Okay, we'll just chill upstairs." 

Ernest was able to get a break. Amanda and her father were nowhere to be found. This bought him a little more time. Good, he needed it. 

Lucien led him up to his old bedroom. 

"You can get comfortable," Lucien said to him. "I'll be right back." 

Finally, there was silence. The only sounds to fill the room could be heard from his stomach. Curse his perpetual hunger. It wouldn't be long before dinner was served, but a part of him would be fine if it never was. If he never had to go downstairs and face the past. 

Ernest was comfortable here, alone on Lucien's childhood bed. Closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, he tried to be at peace. He told himself that he was okay. That there was nothing to fear. Everything would end up alright. 

He couldn't do this, staying still in one spot. He needed movement. Ernest started pacing around the room, keeping his eyes closed. After about a minute he bumped into something, a dresser. Obviously painted black, the Bloodmarch family was predictable, if anything. 

Atop the dresser sat a tiny framed picture. Picking it up, Ernest realized he had just got ahold of a baby picture of Lucien. Okay, baby not being the right term. Toddler? He was definitely no older than five. 

It was cute. He was playing in the sand with his father. Damien, true to character, still donning the vampire attire, but Lucien looked like a normal human child for once. No piercings, no tattoos, he even had his original hair color. 

For the first time today, Ernest smiled. Setting the picture back down, he noticed something next to it. Actually, a few somethings. On top of Lucien's dresser lived a family of those clay statues he'd made in high school. These ones, however; were quite different from the model of Duchess he gave Ernest. These were more him. A clay model of a vampire bat, one of some demon-like creature and possibly what looked like some guy who got stabbed to death and is bleeding out. 

It was a guess, but knowing Lucien, it wasn't too out of the realm of possibility. 

"You know, you were right." 

Ernest distanced himself from the dresser, turning to see his friend in the doorway. "Right? About what?" 

"Me being an artist," Lucien replied, entering the room. "I mean, I still think the one I made you was the best." 

"It was," Ernest agreed. 

"But I can't believe you called me being a tattoo artist." 

"Dude, you should know by now that I'm totally psychic. I can predict anything."  

"Oh really?" 

"Well, I predicted how cliché your childhood bedroom would be. Literally everything is black." 

"I mean, it's not too different from my current room. Just a few more MCR posters." 

"No, it's pretty much the same thing." 

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint," Lucien laughed, finding a spot on the bed. "I can't believe I used to sleep on this thing. It's so small. I must have been a small child." 

"You must have had that over-the-summer growth spurt or something. As you can see, it never happened to me. I'm still short as fuck," Ernest groaned. 

"But it's cute." 

The room fell silent. Each boy looking away from the other, blushing. It wasn't that it was awkward; he had called Ernest cute before. It was just that now everything was out in the open. The feelings that they both had for each other. The feelings that were hopefully still there. 

What were they? What could they be? Neither of them had tried discussing it. But would they ever? Was today some sort of test? If Ernest got through this, would Lucien immediately ask to be with him? 

Too many thoughts were clouding his head and the quiet was going on for too long. Ernest needed to change the subject. 

"So, what took you so long?" he decided to ask. Lucien looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Just now. What were you doing?" 

"I told you, I'd be right back. I just went to the bathroom," Lucien mentioned. 

"Yeah, but the bathroom doesn't usually take that long." 

"I was taking a shit." 

"Oh. I wish I hadn't asked." 

"You're the one that said you were psychic. Shouldn't you have known what I was doing because of your powers?" 

"My psychic abilities don't work like that." 

"Well, I mean, it's not that big of a deal. We fart around each other all the time." 

"That's different." 

"How so?" 

"Umm..." Ernest trailed off, not able to counter his friend's statement. 

"Exactly," Lucien smiled. "Plus, we're super comfortable around each other. Stuff like this shouldn't really bother us if we're gonna be togeth-" 

Their eyes met, both knowing what Lucien was about to say, but neither of them able to find the right words to follow it up with. Instead they sat in silence once more, looking away in embarrassment. A distraction could not come sooner. 

"Knock, knock." 

And there it was. 

The boys turned to see Damien at the door, sans apron. 

"Food is ready." 

That was fast. Lucien said it would be at least another hour. Ernest sighed a little louder than he intended. Both Damien and Lucien gave him a glance. He tried to play it off with his usual smirk, they didn't buy it. 

"Uh, dad. I thought that we were still waiting for them to get back with more ingredients," Lucien uttered. 

"Well, they got back alright," Damien responded, with a less than ecstatic tone.  

Without further ado, the boys were following the host downstairs into the dining room. Ernest stayed at the back, still hopeful that somehow he would be protected or invisible. Sitting down on one side of the table, he saw them. Amanda and her father sharing a laugh, seemingly unaware of the world around them. Ernest wondered if he could slip by unnoticed. 

"Hey," Lucien greeted, obviously not allowing him to do so. 

"Oh, Lucien! What is up?" Amanda shouted, standing up.  

"What's that smell?" he inquired. 

"Well, much to Damien's chagrin, we decided to grab a pizza," she laughed, giving him a hug. 

"It's just that I spent all afternoon whipping up this special dinner," Damien bickered. 

"And we appreciate it," his husband interjected, giving him a quick kiss. "We just also wanted pepperoni pizza. Don't be mad." 

"Yeah, don't be mad," Amanda echoed. 

"Don't worry, dad. I'll eat what you made," Lucien added. 

"Yeah, me too," Ernest uttered, quickly covering his mouth. His plan to stay under the radar was just a huge failure. Everyone's eyes were now on him. 

"Oh my god, Ernest!" Amanda cheered, coming up and giving him a hug. "I remember Lucy saying something about you having dinner with us." 

"I told you not to call me that," Lucien growled. 

"It's been so long, Ernest, how have you been?" she asked. 

"Uh-" 

"Yeah, it's been years, hasn't it?" Her dad interrupted, also giving Ernest a hug. "What have you been up to?" 

The fuck? 

Ernest wasn't sure how to respond to any of this, or how to interpret it. Did they not hate his guts or was this a set up? That had to be it. They were actually pretending that everything was okay so that Ernest could look like the bad guy, even though he technically already was. 

"Shall we begin?" Damien asked, taking a seat at the head of the table. Lucien and Ernest inhabited one side, while Amanda and her father occupied the other. It was even more awkward now, Ernest sat across from Amanda. 

The dinner ran smoothly, it was rather quiet on certain people's part, but the awkward mediation music was able to fill that space. Amanda led the conversation, being the most extroverted of the bunch. Damien and his husband would add a thought here and there, but it was mostly her talking. 

Lucien was just as quiet as Ernest, spending most of his time watching him. The discomfort was obvious in Ernest's disposition, but he couldn't really help it. The moment was coming soon. The dinner Damien prepared was diminishing and the pizza was all gone.  

Ernest had promised Lucien that once dinner was finished, he'd take the floor, apologizing to the pair across from him. Much to his surprise, they didn't seem to want to punch him. A part of him would almost go out on a limb to say that they have no idea what he's about to do. It made sense. Lucien wouldn't just shoot them a text saying "head's up, the guy who destroyed your car is coming to dinner to apologize for his actions." 

Would it have been easier if he did that, though? 

Amanda let out the loudest burp, basically giving off the signal that they were finished with their food. Everyone else slid back into their seats, also done eating for now. He could feel Lucien's eyes on him. He just wasn’t sure how to start this. 

"Damn, Damien, that was actually some good shit," Amanda complimented. 

"Amanda," her father stated, looking a bit serious. "I agree." 

"Well, I apologize for not planning a meat-inclusive meal," Damien remarked, still a little salty. 

"No apologies necessary." 

"Actually, there may be one apology that is very necessary," Ernest spoke up. Each set of eyes was now on him. He felt a hand touching his; Lucien, of course. That wasn't his focus right now. He was looking straight forward at Amanda and her dad. "I owe you an apology." 

Ernest began his pre-rehearsed apology, but only made it through the first two sentences before ugly crying. Well, Lucien would think it was cute, but it wasn't his most desirable look. Quickly recovering, he continued to say sorry for everything. Part of him wanted to use his diagnosis as an excuse, making it seem like it was completely out of his control and that he wasn't responsible for his actions, but he knew that'd be wrong. In so many ways.  

"Ernest, it's okay," he said. 

This was unexpected. 

"That was years ago. I know you were under a lot of pressure and in a horrible place at the time. Your father filled us in on some of your medical details," he continued. "Plus, I'll let you in on a secret. I have great insurance, so I got a better car like right after the incident." 

Ernest's jaw had actually dropped. He thought that this encounter would end up being something completely different, but it was okay. Everything was okay. Better than expected. Ernest was officially off the hook. There was nothing else on his plate; no big weight on him. 

"Yeah, your old car was a pile of shit," Amanda joked. 

"In so many words, yes," her father agreed, turning back to face Ernest. "But thank you for taking the initiative and doing the adult thing. I forgive you. You've been through enough and I can see that you are turning into a spectacular young man." 

"He is, he really is," Lucien chimed in, standing up next to Ernest, still holding his hand. 

"Ooh, what do I see here?" Amanda gasped. "Are you two-" 

"Uh..." Both boys uttered in response, snatching their hands away. Ernest and Lucien still hadn't talked about that yet. That's when he realized that he still wasn't free. Like always, there was still something else on his plate.  

What just happened may seem like the scariest thing he's ever done, but rehashing his feelings for Lucien and figuring out what they would become now, was an even bigger deal than before. 

 

 _Bzzt_ _._  

 

It was coming from Ernest's pocket. Grabbing his phone, he saw the text from his father. Opening it, he couldn't help but smile.  

 

 **Hey son, I hope everything is going well for you tonight. I know this is a big**   **deal**   **and I** **jus** **t** **wanted to**   **let**   **you** **know that I'm proud of you. I love you!**  

 

 **P.S. if he doesn't forgive you, fuck him!**  

 

Maybe it was the fact that his dad just cussed or maybe it was because he was being so supportive, but Ernest felt like he might cry again. He stared at the message for a long while, thinking about Hugo and their tragic history and how much better things are now. 

"You okay?" Amanda inquired, breaking the silence. Ernest just realized everyone had been staring at him for what was probably five minutes. 

"Yeah, sorry. My dad was just checking up on me," he told them, quickly texting his dad saying everything was perfect. 

"That reminds me, he and Craig's wedding is coming up real soon," Damien recalled. 

"In a week," Ernest informed, now thinking about the ceremony. His pocket buzzed once more. 

 

 **See? I knew it would work out.**  

 

Ernest smiled again, shoving his phone back into his pocket, but not before it buzzed once more. 

 

 **Also, if you want** **ed** **to spend the night at Lucien's, then you are free to** **do so** **.**  

 

Ernest's jaw dropped again. Since when was Hugo cool with him staying the night at someone else's house? Especially, when it was Lucien, the guy he... ya know. 

 

 **Umm is**   **that ok** **with you?**  

 

He waited for his father to respond. 

 

 **Ernest, you're an adult. It really isn't up to me anymore. You can make your own decisions.** **Have fun!**  

 

With his dad's blessing, Ernest didn't need to be home, but now he wondered if he really felt comfortable spending the night at Lucien's place? Especially with their still up-in-the-air attraction to each other. 

As the thought took up all the space in his head, the rest of the time being at the Bloodmarch manor flew by. Dinner was over, so they technically had no reason to stay, but they did. As a family, they sat and laughed together, played some games and before they knew it, it was almost 10. 

Ernest and Lucien soon left the house, saying their goodbyes and allowing Ernest to finally get his closure. Entering Lucien's car, another fear had come over him. One that involved the boy sitting next to him. What would become of them? If anything. 

"So, I should probably be getting you home," Lucien stated, putting his seat belt on. 

"Actually," Ernest whispered, showing the messages from his father. 

"Whoa." 

"Yep." 

"So, what do we do?" 

"I have no idea. I've never had this kind of freedom. I wanna be rebellious and not listen to him, but I can't. It's a strange feeling." 

"Being an adult is so weird," Lucien muttered. "We're allowed to do whatever the hell we want. Within legal parameters, of course. But our parents have no control over us anymore so we can't go off the wall and pierce everything and get tattoos they would hate. It sucks." 

"About that," Ernest mumbled. "I kind of want one." 

"A tattoo?" 

"Yeah, but like a real one. Not some stick and poke on my ass." 

"Oh, so you're serious." 

"Yep, and I just happen to know a really good tattoo artist." 

"Have I met them?" he joked. 

"You, dumbass," Ernest chuckled. 

"How do you know if I'm even good? You haven't seen much of my work." 

"Well, your shop has survived this long so you have to be somewhat decent." 

"You really wanna do this?" 

Taking a moment to envision himself with a tattoo, as well as considering the many types of tattoos he could receive, Ernest gave him a confident nod. "Definitely." 

 

Back at Lucien's place, Ernest could feel those nerves settling in. It had become all too real. He sat off to the side as Lucien set up his tools in the parlor area. The whole time wondering if he was really going to do this. 

He believed he would. He wanted to. But would he? 

"Have you decided on what you want?" 

It was a loaded question. Did he mean what he wanted from him? Or had he decided on what he wanted out of life? Or more likely, what he wanted to ink his body with forever? 

When he was younger, he never understood the lasting effect behind getting a tattoo. He had seen so many that were just colorful and cool. A few folks just like to have something that people would react to and others would go for more sentimental pieces. 

Ernest couldn't decide which person he was. That's because now he was both. He was someone who liked ogling beautiful and intricate creations as well as understanding the emotional importance of the more meaningful ones. 

Going through his head, he couldn't quite picture himself with what he'd dreamed up over the years. Everyone in town would bet millions of dollars that he'd stick a pizza roll on his body, but that would be stupid. Even Ernest could admit that.  

Then there was the idea to create some sort of memorial for his late canine friend, Duchess Cordelia. He thought about getting her face or something like that, but even with dogs being extremely adorable, a giant mastiff face wasn't the best thing to put on his body.  

That's why Ernest was stuck. His ideas only went so far. He was trapped between something random and something sweet. It wasn't until he got a glimpse of something he'd never seen before. While Lucien was busy putting his tools together, part of his pant leg was scrunched up. It was enough for Ernest to get a good look at his friend's ankle and ultimately lead him to finally know what he wanted. 

   

"Ow, ouch. It hurts!" Ernest screamed, about an hour later. 

"Hold still, I'm almost done," Lucien demanded. 

"What the fuck?" 

"I thought you said you could handle it?" 

"Yeah, same-fuck! Oh fuck!" 

"Quiet down. With all those sounds you're making, people would think weird shit. It sounds like we're-" 

Lucien didn't finish the sentence, but Ernest wished he did. He obviously knew what his friend wanted to say, but part of him wished that they could be doing said actions rather than saying. 

"Done." 

"Really? I didn't feel i-" Ernest stopped speaking, as soon as he moved. "Ow, there it is." 

"Yeah, don't do that," Lucien giggled, doing one last wipe. "Do you wanna check it out over there before I cover it?" 

Slowly getting up, Ernest made it over to the mirror, adjusting his body so he could see his back. Below his right shoulder now lived the name "Hugo" and to him, it was perfect. 

Admittedly, it wasn't the most original thing, especially because he got the idea after seeing Lucien's very similar tattoo. It meant something, though. A lot of somethings. He wouldn't change it for anything. Well, the name part. Who knows? In a few years, he might add flames around it or a dragon. Maybe he won't? Only time will tell. 

"I love it," Ernest complimented, as Lucien started to cover it. 

"You're all good," Lucien told him, when he was done.  

"How much did-" 

"Ernest, you don't have to." 

"But I want to," Ernest insisted. 

"It's on the house. I wouldn't make you pay," he smiled. It was as if he was looking deep into Ernest's eyes. The feeling was obviously nice, but he wasn't sure what to do. "So, you wanted to sleep over?" 

Despite all of the urges and feelings he had for Lucien that he wanted to expose to him, he had some reservations. Which sucked, because being in an enclosed space together would be a great way to let that out.  

Ernest thought ahead to the next day. Both boys would have work and Ernest would need to get back home somehow. Lucien would be stuck at his shop all day and he didn't want to make him get up early in the morning to take him home. 

"Actually, I think I should probably spend the night at my place," Ernest decided. 

"Got it," Lucien nodded, grabbing his keys. 

Getting into the car was a bit of a difficult task. Ernest couldn't lean all the way back into the seat. He tried to keep the tattoo from touching it. Taking care of this thing would be a pain in the ass. He wondered how other people did it. Also, for some reason his arm was hurting. 

"Why the fuck is my arm hurting? I didn't even get it there." 

"I mean, it is connected. Moving your arm is like moving your shoulder and that's pretty close to the tattoo." 

"Well, am I gonna be able to do anything with it? It hurts to move it even the slightest bit. Now I can't wank," he complained. 

"Do you need to wank immediately? Can't you wait to wank? What are you even wanking to?" Lucien questioned, understanding that they were now talking about masturbation. "Also, why are we using the word 'wank?' It's weird." 

"I don't know, it's just a word that I hear people say," Ernest answered, seeing Lucien's face. Then he realized that he hadn't responded to everything he asked. "As for answering your other questions. I don't need to wank immediately, I can wait." 

"And?" Lucien pressed on. Ernest rolled his eyes, embarrassed to say it.

"Sometimes Craig walks around in just his underwear." 

"Dude, that's your stepdad. Well, almost." 

"Yeah, but have you seen his body?" 

"Oh, I'm not judging at all. I would do the same. He's hot." 

"Why are we talking about this? Now I feel weird," Ernest murmured. 

"I'll put on some music," Lucien said, handing him his phone. "It's already plugged in, so just pick something." 

"What was playing earlier? I didn't get a good listen, but you seemed to really like it." 

"Oh, you mean Halsey? I fucking love her." 

"We can listen to her if you want." 

"Yeah, just go to her name and shuffle her music." 

Ernest did just that. He had no idea what any of the songs were, but he liked them. Lucien was clearly obsessed, knowing every single line. The current song was really cool. Ernest could've sworn it was called "Everything is Blue" because that's what he heard most of, but Lucien insisted that it was called "Colors." 

"I like it. She's really good," Ernest uttered once the song ended. 

"Yeah, she's definitely one of my faves," Lucien said, pulling up in front of Ernest's house. They were just about to get ready to say their goodbyes. "Oh my gosh! This is my favorite song! You have to hear it before you go!" 

Ernest unlocked his seat belt, but stayed seated as the next song started. It was very different, but interesting because it had actual car sounds in it. Lucien sang along to every word at the beginning but as the chorus came on, his facial expression seemed to change. Listening to it, Ernest understood why. 

 

 _"All we do is drive. All we do is think about the feelings that we hide. All we do is sit in silence waiting for a sign."_  

 

Ernest could feel his heart beating quite loudly again. As the song continued, it felt even more awkward. Neither boy wanted to directly look at each other, but they couldn't help it. Their heads started turning and their eyes soon met. Halsey continued singing. 

 

 _"It's so simple, but we can't stay. Over analyze again, would it really kill you if we kiss?"_  

 

Their breathing heavy, realizing how perfectly the lyrics narrated their situation, Ernest couldn't help himself. As the chorus came back, he was out of his seat and on top of Lucien. Of course, with his newfound pain, he let out of a few small "ows" here and there. 

But that's not important right now. What's important was that they were kissing. They were finally kissing. Making out, to be exact. 

The song eventually stopped, but they never did. Neither of them wanted it to end. This was something they had both desired for so long and their only wish was that this moment could last forever, that they could be here and kiss forever.

And they did.  

At least, until the sun came up.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, wonderful people. Well, we've had a good run, but it's almost done. One more chapter and it'll be over. It's kind of bittersweet. In fact, I'm holding back tears myself. But no crying! We're not there just yet. Before that, I wanted to thank you all so much for being a huge part of this story. I'm so happy with how it turned out and your response has been phenomenal. It's made writing this all the more worth it. I love each and every single one of you and I hope to see you next time, for the final chapter of Pizza Rolls Topped With Oregano ~


	12. Chapter 12

 

"I can't do this. Everything is all wrong. What if he doesn't show up? What if-" 

"Dad, breathe," Ernest interrupted, fixing Hugo's bow tie. "You can definitely do this. Everything is not all wrong, you made me check three times to make sure. Plus, you know he's gonna show up, I mean, he lives here for Pete's sake." 

"Wait, did you call me dad again?" Hugo inquired. Ernest gave him a look. "Sorry, I'm still getting used to it." 

"You and me both." 

"I guess, you're right. I'm overreacting. I just don't know why I'm so nervous." 

 

Nervous was a bit of an understatement. Hugo was a full-on mess. The funny part was that everything was going according to plan. He had all of the things he'd asked for, everyone he'd invited had RSVP'd and his tux arrived on time and looked absolutely perfect.  His wedding was set to be flawless.  

So, why was he acting as if it wouldn't be? 

It wasn't like Hugo hadn't been here before. He had a whole other marriage. Ernest was too young to remember his fathers' wedding, but that made him think. Perhaps, this was why Hugo was so opposed to everything working out today. With how his last marriage ended, he was skeptical of how well this one would end up. 

Ernest wanted to tell him that everything would turn out alright, but he couldn't be so sure. He knew Craig, well; he had a few moments with Craig. In those moments, Ernest was able to determine that Craig was serious about his father. 

He wanted to believe that knowing this was enough, but he previously thought this was true of his own father and he eventually left Hugo for some younger guy. None of this being Hugo's fault, but he more than likely told himself that it was.  

 

"It's okay, you just have those pre-wedding jitters," Ernest reassured, not willing to tell his father that he was just as nervous that this would somehow tank. "You must have been just as anxious for your first wedding." 

"Not really. We were both in Vegas high off our asses and super wasted after chugging two bottles of Fireball," Hugo told him. Ernest's jaw dropped. "I'm kidding." 

"See? You're not entirely in your head about this. You can still make halfway decent jokes," he quipped. 

"I just... I don't know. Things were different with me and your father. We had just been given the right to finally marry and I'm thinking maybe we rushed into it and..." His dad trailed off. 

"Dad-" 

"Nevermind." 

"Dad, talk to me." 

"It's nothing. Forget about it." 

"It's me, Ernest. Your son. You can talk to me about anything," he consoled. 

"Wow, I never thought I'd hear you say something like that," Hugo admitted. 

"I never thought I'd say something like that either. It felt odd. I still have a weird taste in my mouth." 

They both shared a laugh, Hugo finding silence first. Ernest kept his eyes on him, wondering what else was on his mind. "I just don't know if now is the right time. What if, like my first marriage, me and Craig are just rushing into this? Are we going too fast?" 

"You can't afford to think like that." 

"Why not? I'm just an old man trying to feel loved before it's too late." 

"That's not true." 

"What if it is?" 

Ernest stopped to think before speaking again. He didn't want to give an answer that wasn't right. This had to be something that Hugo needed to hear. 

"That's exactly why you need to do this," Ernest eventually uttered. 

"What?" Hugo queried. 

"You and Craig are both old men who want to be loved. You two have been through the ringer with marriage and kids and it's made you feel like shit. Then you finally found each other and you're clearly in love. Heck, you actually found someone who enjoys wrestling as much as you," Ernest continued. "You're both in that time in your life where you don't want any nonsense. You didn't just jump at the first person who complimented your glasses this time, you found someone who makes you happy and makes you a better person. That's why this isn't going to fail miserably. It's your happy ending. Finally." 

"...shit," was all Hugo could utter. 

"Yeah, I've become pretty good at this pep talk thing." 

The two came together for a quick embrace. "Thank you, son." 

 

 _Bzzt._  

 

It was coming from Ernest's pocket. He had received a text. 

"Lucien's here," he told his father.  

"I guess you'll be going outside now." 

"I should be out there anyways to greet the other guests. You stay here, breathe and get ready for your big day!" 

 

Leaving his father alone, Ernest headed outside in pursuit of a certain Lucien Bloodmarch.  

There he was, standing under the old oak tree, looking as handsome as ever. True to character, Lucien was wearing an all-black suit, even the shirt was black. No surprise there. Ernest would be more devastated if Lucien showed up in anything even slightly lighter.  

He always said he'd stop wearing black when they make a darker color. 

Then again, Ernest wasn't one to talk. He was donning the typical black suit/white shirt combo. There was a tiny part of him that thought it'd be adorable to match Lucien, but a larger part of him knew that he would match him no matter what because everything went with black. 

They greeted each other with a short kiss, now past all of that early relationship awkwardness. Sure, it had officially only been about a week, but the boys had known each other for years beyond that. Most relationships didn't have that kind of friendship backstory. 

That's why this was so perfect. It made it seem like they wouldn't get into the same kind of problems other couples did from not really knowing each other that well. They were aware of the other's likes, dislikes, weird habits. All that jazz.  

In a way that sentiment could be applied to today. Craig and Hugo had been friends for years before dating. Seeing how happy they were was another reason why Ernest was so optimistic for his future with Lucien.  

"You look hot," Lucien complimented. 

"Temperature wise?" Ernest joked. "Do I look like I'm burning up?" 

"Shut up." 

"You shut up!" 

"Oh, how cute," Lucien mentioned, looking in the other direction. Ernest turned to see River run up in a white dress, holding a basket of flowers. 

"Yeah, River is the flower girl," Ernest told him. 

"Woof, woof," she uttered. 

"The fuck?" Lucien whispered, giving Ernest a strange glance. 

"Oh, and she's also been obsessed with dogs recently," he revealed. 

"I want a doggy!" River demanded. 

"Didn't you say the other day that she had some sort of strange obsession with butts?" Lucien remembered. "Now it's dogs?" 

"I feel like she has some new phase each week. To be a child again, right?" he sighed. 

"I guess." 

"Yeah, but Craig won't let her get a dog." 

"Aw, what a dick. Why not?" 

"Well, remember, River isn't always here. Craig thinks that he'd end up taking more care of the dog since she leaves every other week." 

"That is a very good point." 

"I want a doggy!" River shouted once more. 

"She wants a doggy," Lucien repeated. "We've gotta do something." 

"See what I have to deal with?" Ernest grumbled. 

"I mean, you could get her like a stuffed animal of a puppy or something of that nature. She wouldn't know the difference." 

"That's true. I'll look into it." 

"Woof!" she uttered, running off into the crowd of people. 

The two watched as River ran up to each guest, continuing to make canine noises. Seeing each of them pretend to be impressed, Ernest remembered that it was his job to play nice and greet the attendees as well. 

With Lucien on his arm, he headed over to the large crowd of wedding-goers. 

A ton of fake smiles and small talk later, Ernest was already done with the day. He just wanted the wedding to be over with now. It was exhausting pretending to like people. Half of whom, he didn't even know that well. Some were work friends of Hugo's and others were random people Craig met at the gym. If only they were out here to greet them, it'd be less awkward. But alas, it was their special day. They needed time and space to get themselves ready for the main event. 

The boys had eventually run into Lucien's family and Damien and his husband were a little more fun to speak with, considering the recent developments in Ernest's relationship with them. Amanda was in attendance as well, enjoying one last ounce of freedom before returning to work for Val Small.  

With all the rumors surrounding Val's father and a certain ex-youth pastor, Ernest couldn't help but steal Amanda away to ask her if they were true. Lucien was curious as well, so he tagged along. 

Unfortunately, they came up short. She didn't know anything. Val and Robert weren't really close to begin with. Amanda recalled when her father dated Robert for a while a few years back, in which Ernest reacted by coughing the word "whore" into his arm. 

When Val came to visit one time, that was apparently the last instance she and Robert talked. It was the last time Robert and anyone really talked. He told Amanda's dad that he would change before they could take things seriously, but that as a lie. He fell off the wagon and ran away with his true love, Joseph Christiansen. 

That last part still being a rumor at this point. 

Saying goodbye to Lucien's family, their attention was now directed at another familiar couple. Pablo and Mat. An odd pairing at first, it was soon clear just how much they cared for each other.  

"What a cute little set up," Pablo said, of the backyard.  

"I know, it kind of reminds me of our ceremony," Mat giggled, touching noses with Pablo. 

"Yeah, my dad worked really hard on it. He's been gardening recently," Ernest told them. They nodded approvingly. 

It now became clear to Ernest why his father insisted on having the ceremony in their backyard. He wanted to show off his full blooming garden that he'd been taking care of for the past year. Ernest would even go out on a limb to say that this moment was basically the reason why he started gardening in the first place. He wanted everyone to be envious of his beautiful wedding. 

Well, it worked. Looking at the display of fold out chairs and department store decorations, the flowers surrounding the event were hard to ignore. People were admiring and hating on them all at once. This prompted Ernest to envision himself living on his own, having that kind of fake relationship with the neighbors he's forced to live next to. 

He could feel Lucien's hand grip tighter. 

"Well, it looks like your dad isn't the only one getting lucky tonight!" Pablo winked. 

"Oh, um," Ernest muttered, giving Lucien a nervous look. 

"I told you this would happen. I totally shipped them!" Mat added. Ship? Since when did Mat say words like 'ship' and 'totally?' 

"It was nice talking to you two," Lucien remarked, guiding Ernest away from them.  

"We should be off to our seats anyway," Pablo declared. 

"I should probably find my daughter, too. She's around here somewhere," they heard Mat say. 

"Thank you. That was getting awkward," Ernest whispered. 

"No problem. I wasn't aware that people were placing bets on our relationship status." 

"Yeah..." 

"And about what they said, about 'getting lucky...'" Lucien trailed off. "You know we don't have to, if you're not ready." 

Ernest wasn't sure if he'd address that elephant. They had been avoiding this subject throughout the week, spending most of their time making out and listening to music. Every time it got even close to that, they'd both stop and try to change the subject. It was as if Lucien was completely aware of Ernest's virgin status. 

Examining Lucien's face, it seemed like he was waiting for Ernest to say something. Oh, how he wished there could be a change of subject right now.  

"Well, hello kids," a familiar voice interrupted. It was Brian Harding. 

"Oh, hey Brian," Ernest replied, trying to not sound extremely disappointed. 

"How are you two kids doing?" he asked, kind of distracted. 

"We're good-" 

"Oh, there she is. Come over here, dear!" he called over to someone else. After a minute, his daughter showed up. 

"Daisy, what are you doing here?" Lucien questioned. 

"Yeah, I thought you were off in space or something?" Ernest kidded. 

"Well, I-" 

"Oh, she's just here for the weekend. She wanted to come down for the wedding. She'll be back at MIT changing the world on Monday," Brian bragged. 

Ernest rolled his eyes so hard you could probably hear it. "Wow, that's so sweet of you." He looked over at Lucien, hoping he'd make another excuse for them to leave. 

"Well, um," Lucien muttered, trying to think of something. 

"Lucien needs to take a shit," Ernest uttered. Brian and Daisy gave them worried expressions. "So, we should get him to a bathroom." 

"A shit? Really?" Lucien growled, as they got away. 

"Sorry, I needed a reason to escape from that asshole. He was clearly trying to make today about him and Daisy, like always. It's Hugo's damn wedding and Brian brought Daisy here so that he could feel superior." 

"Yeah, it's pathetic, but it's all he's got. He doesn't have any friends." 

They shared a laugh before overhearing something else they wished they hadn't. 

"So, you wanna get out of here, babe?" 

Hidden behind a bush, the boys saw Chris Christiansen cornering some poor innocent girl. 

"But, like isn't the whole reason we're here to watch two old gay dudes get married?" the girl asked. 

"Yeah, but gay people can get married all the time now thanks to all the sin of the world," Chris told her. "What's the harm in missing one of their weddings?" 

"Oh, right," she dumbly replied. 

"Hey, Chris," Ernest interrupted, now face to face with him. "I didn't know you'd be here." 

"Why wouldn't I be? I'm invited to everything," Chris scoffed.  

"How did you even get here? Don't you live with your grandparents on the other side of town? Do they even know my dad?" he interrogated. 

"Oh, I didn't come with them," Chris smiled, pointing to the crowd of people.  

Both Lucien and Ernest's jaws dropped when they saw her. She wore a long, flowy pink dress, like a princess. Her hair was freshly cut and styled and her makeup was way overdone for someone her age, but unfortunately, she pulled it off. 

"Mary?" they shouted at the same time. 

"Well, hello boys," she greeted, coming up to them with the hugest smile. 

"What happened to you?" Lucien inquired. 

"Yeah, I thought you were all old and decrepit," Ernest mentioned, quickly covering his mouth. He still needed to work on keeping his thoughts in his head. 

"I had a little makeover," she proclaimed.  

"Any specific occasion? I know my dad walking down the aisle isn't that good of a reason." 

"I just realized that life is so beautiful and there is so much to be happy about." 

"Really?" he pressed on. 

"Well, since you asked," she mumbled, pulling her phone out of her bra and unlocking it. It opened up to the page of a news article. 

"You just had that ready?" Lucien queried, a bit suspicious. 

"She's been showing everyone," Chris added. 

 

 **TWO MEN FOUND DEAD IN COMPROMISING POSITION AFTER CAR GOES OFF**   **SIDE**   **OF BRIDGE**

 

"Oh shit," Ernest gasped, reading the article.  

It would seem as though two men, who are currently unidentified, but have similar descriptions to two people that are very well-known in Maple Bay, died by driving off a bridge. When the car was recovered, it was apparent that the two men had been engaging in 'lewd' activities. AKA road head. The blond one had his mouth on the other's... well, you know. 

Mary was clearly ecstatic about the possibility of who those dead bodies could be. Heck, she went outside because of it. Coming out of hiding, reemerging as a new woman. Widow was apparently the new black. 

After that awkward encounter, the beginning of the wedding was fast approaching. By now, Hugo and Craig should both be ready. There was nothing that Ernest could think of that could get in the way of starting on time. 

"Ernest, we have a problem." 

It was Carmensita and she looked serious. Which was something that Carmensita never was. Ernest didn't have any more room in his head for bad news. Technically the two dead guys could be considered 'bad,' but it didn't exactly pertain to him. Plus, nobody really knew if it was actually them. 

"What's the matter, Sita?" Lucien asked, getting concerned. 

"Is something on fire?" Ernest joined in. 

"No, nothing of that nature. It's much worse," she cautioned. 

"What happened?" 

"Well, um-" 

"Carmensita. What did you do?" Ernest interrogated. 

"I-I didn't do it," she stuttered. "It's not important who did it. It's important what happened." 

"Okay and?" 

"Well, let's just say that specific objects that certain people were employed to keep an eye on, may have disappeared." 

"What kind of objects?" 

She started gesturing to her hand. Ernest and Lucien shared confused glances. Raising it up, she started to wiggle her fingers. This made the boys even more confused. 

"Someone's finger fell off?" Lucien offered. 

"No, it's something that goes on the finger," she hinted. Ernest tried paying closer attention now. Carmensita looked him straight in the eye and mouthed the word 'ring.' 

"Ring?" He repeated aloud. Then he started thinking. "Ring? Rings? You lost the rings-" 

"Okay, maybe not so loud," the other two whispered, covering his mouth. The wedding guests looked over to see what the commotion was about. Carmensita gave them a quick smile and waved them away. 

"What do we do?" she asked, bringing Ernest further away from the group of people. 

"We have to find the damn rings. There is no way we can do a fucking wedding without the fucking rings!" he roared. 

"Then let's do that," Lucien stated, trying to calm Ernest down. "Who was in charge of watching the rings?" 

"I'll give you two guesses." 

 

A moment later, the three of them were now inside the house, making sure they weren't seen by either of the grooms-to-be. The last thing that they needed to worry about today was missing rings. The kids made it to the twins' room where Hazel was standing guard outside. She was wearing a white dress, similar to River's. The door was cracked. allowing them to hear Briar panicking inside. 

"What happened?" Ernest questioned, his tone more serious. 

"You see, it's kind of a long story," Hazel muttered. 

"We have all the time in the world now," he grumbled. 

"It wasn't even my fault. Be mad at Briar. She volunteered to watch the rings while I went to the bathroom. Then when I came back, the rings were gone." 

Opening the bedroom door, Ernest and the others could see Briar tearing through her belongings. Clothes were everywhere, bedsheets were not on their respective beds. It was a mess, to say the least, but Briar looked great, sporting the same white dress as her sister. 

"Don't be mad at me," she yelled to them, while insider her dresser. "At least, I'm trying to find the damn rings. Hazel is standing over there doing nothing." 

"Shut up! I knew you couldn't be trusted!" Hazel called back. "What kind of name is Briar anyway?" 

"I don't know. Why don’t you ask our fucking dad?" 

The other three in the room gasped. Hazel and Briar moved their gazes over to them, unaware of what warranted the gasps. 

"What?" they exclaimed. 

"Craig named you two?" Lucien wondered. 

"We thought it was definitely Ashley with those white ass names," Carmensita commented. 

"Well, our mom did name me," Hazel revealed, not catching any surprised faces.  

"And dad named me. They each wanted to name one twin," Briar explained, seeing the confusion again. "Why is it such a big deal?" 

"Because we were sure it was Ashley," Ernest mentioned. "Briar just seems like such an obvious attempt at trying to not name you daughter a basic white girl name. Like 'look, I'm this cool girl with an alternative name' or something. Thus, actually still ending up with a basic white girl name." 

"Well, it's great to know that all of my friends hate my name," Briar shouted. "But we have more pressing matters to attend to." 

"Aw, Briar. We don't hate your name. It's just unique," Carmensita comforted. 

"It's actually a cool name. We just weren't aware of the reasoning behind it," Lucien told her. 

"But we really should get back to the ring situation," Ernest reminded. 

"Okay, so I went to the bathroom and when I came back, the rings were gone," Hazel recalled. Everyone's eyes were now on Briar who was supposed to be watching the rings. Her expression transformed to one of guilt. 

"Fine, I admit that my mind was on other things," Briar disclosed. "When Hazel left to the bathroom, I realized that I had to pee really bad, but I decided to wait because I thought she'd be out soon. She wasn't. Hazel was taking forever in the bathroom down here, so I decided to use the upstairs bathroom." 

"Upstairs is off limits! Our parents are getting changed!" Ernest shouted. 

"Wait, are they getting changed together? Isn't the point that they shouldn't see each other?" Carmensita queried. 

"My dad is using my room to change and Craig is using theirs," he elucidated. "But there shouldn't be anyone up there bothering them. If they hear anything, they'll think the ceremony is starting and then accidentally see each other." 

"Well, I didn't make any noise. I just had to pee. Unlike this one over here," Briar snickered, elbowing her sister. 

"Shut up! I'm gonna kill you!" Hazel screamed at her sister. Now they were slapping each other back and forth. 

"We're getting nowhere," Lucien muttered to Ernest. 

"Okay, so you went to the bathroom. What does that have to do with the rings?" Ernest investigated. 

"Well, now that I think about it. I couldn't leave the rings alone. My job was to watch them. Maybe I took them with me!" Briar realized. 

"The rings are in the upstairs bathroom!" They all declared. 

 

Crowding around the bottom of the staircase, the group quietly sent up Briar to examine the bathroom. Carmensita and Lucien stood slightly out of view, in case either of the grooms made an exit from their dressing rooms. Crossing their fingers, they hoped that Briar wouldn't make a commotion and find the rings- 

 

 _Bam!_  

 

"What was that?" they heard a voice ask from one of the rooms. 

Pushing their friends further to the side, Hazel and Ernest ran up the stairs to stop their dads from figuring anything out. Both dads ended up exiting their rooms, but their kids quickly shoved them back inside. Somehow, Ernest ended up with Craig and Hazel with Hugo. 

"Is everything alright, little dude? I thought I heard something," Craig murmured, still getting his clothes together. 

"Nothing. It was nothing," Ernest replied, trying not to look at Craig. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yeah, I thought I heard something too, but it turned out to be nothing." 

"Oh." 

"So, how are you doing?" 

"Ya know, just the usual, bro. I'm gonna get married in like fifteen minutes. No pressure." 

"Right." 

"How about you?" 

"Me? I'm cool." 

"Really? You seem anxious," Craig pried. "Are you worried about your old man getting married?" 

"Uh, yeah. That's it," he lied.  

"Ernest, you have nothing to worry about. I mean, we've both been through this before. In different ways, of course, but we've still been in this same position." 

"Yeah, I know. You're a great guy who truly loves my dad, Craig. He deserves someone as amazing as you. He's been waiting his whole life for someone like you." 

"I've been waiting my whole life for someone like him." 

"So, if you don't mind me asking. Why did you marry and have kids with Ashley? Oh, did you not know you were gay yet? Was that the big reason why it didn't work out?" 

"Oh, no. I'm not gay. I'm bisexual," Craig confessed. "Ashley's known that since college. It had nothing to do with that. Our marriage didn't work out because sometimes things just don't happen as you planned." 

Ernest didn't respond immediately. His mind was repeating the "sometimes things just don't happen as you planned" part. He was sure that Craig wouldn’t apply that sentiment to his wedding, but you had to appreciate the irony. 

The last thing he said to Craig before leaving was that he wouldn't bother him again until the wedding. A promise he only hoped he could keep. 

Hazel exited the other room right as Ernest did and they gave approving nods, recognizing that both grooms had been neutralized.  

Briar was still in the bathroom as they came upon her. They inquired about what the noise was and she confessed that she dropped the toilet seat a bit too hard looking for the rings. The fact that there was a possibility that the rings were inside of the toilet was already a horrible sign. She came up empty. These rings were completely and utterly lost. At this point, it would take a miracle to find them. 

"Wait," Ernest uttered, taking a step into the bathroom. There was something that wasn't usually on the floor. "Flower petals." 

"Okay, I know this is a wedding and all, but all the flowers should be outside in the garden. How did any get in here?" Hazel inquired. 

Ernest gave her a knowing grin. "I'll give you one guess." 

 

Finding her outside near the garden, the gang of five surrounded the flower girl. River looked up at them innocently, wondering what they wanted. Her basket of flowers nestled perfectly around her arm. 

"Woof," she uttered. 

"Enough with that. You're not a stupid dog," Hazel hissed. 

"Hazel," Briar coughed, nudging her. "Be nice. That's our little sister." 

"Yeah, and she has what we want." 

"Woof?" 

"Let me handle this," Ernest blurted, kneeling down. "River, I understand that you may have something that we really need. Something that is really important to today." 

"I want a doggy," she exclaimed. 

"Yes, I understand that, but that's not up to me," he told her. 

"You want shiny?" she asked, pulling out both rings from under her flowers. 

"Uh huh. That's exactly what we want," Ernest smiled, reaching for the rings. 

"Nope," River denied, hiding the rings back under the flowers. "Not until I get a doggy!" 

"What the hell are we supposed to do?" Carmensita whispered, as the five huddled up.  

"I don't know. We need more time to figure something out," Ernest answered, looking unconfident. 

"How much time do we have?" Lucien inquired, checking his phone. 

"The wedding is supposed to star-" 

"Welcome, everyone!" a voice called from the other side of the backyard. Each of the guests were now seated, with the officiant standing before them. 

"Right now." 

"I know you've all been eagerly waiting for the main event and I am pleased to tell you that this thing is about to get started," the man spoke. "I am Weddingmaster Quinn and I will be the minister at today's beautiful ceremony." 

"You've got to be kidding," Carmensita groaned. "You got him? Really?" 

"He was really cheap," Ernest conceded. 

"Well, this Quinn guy doesn't know that we can't start the wedding right away because of a little problem," Hazel mentioned, gesturing to her little sister. 

"We still have a few minutes," Carmensita said. "I've been to a lot of the events that Quinn MCs and he never starts on time. He spends the first five to ten minutes crying about his ex-wife." 

"That's good, but now we have to figure this out," Lucien stated, bringing everyone back to the issue at hand. 

"River can you please give us back those rings? It's really important," Briar decided to try. 

"I want a doggy!" River yelled. 

"We're doomed," Hazel concluded. Ernest was quiet for a second, mulling over what River was saying and what Lucien had mentioned earlier in the day. 

"Hey, River. So, if we can get you a doggy, then you'll give us the rings?" Ernest finally asked. She nodded. 

"Where the hell are we gonna get a real-life dog?" Lucien whispered, pulling him aside. 

"She never said anything about real-life." 

 

A few minutes later, Ernest was back inside. Both of the grooms should have been dressed by now, but they were waiting for their cue. The cue being that the twins would come and get Craig and tell him that it was time and Ernest would do the same with his dad. 

Slowly trudging up the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible, he made it to his room. His father would be disappointed to find out that his appearance didn’t mean that it was time to get married. Luckily, the room was empty. He heard the sound of the toilet flush down the hall, meaning he had a small window before his dad would find him. 

He knew what he wanted. The trip was a quick in and out, leaving the room virtually untouched. Ernest was back outside before anyone knew it. The three girls gave him bewildered expressions, but Lucien understood once he saw what Ernest was holding. 

"Doggy!" River cheered, as Ernest handed her the clay statue of Duchess Cordelia that Lucien made for him in high school. She gave him the rings in return, no questions asked. 

He wasn't sure how Lucien would react, knowing that he put his heart into making it for Ernest. Meeting back up with him, there was no anger in his eyes. In fact, he was smiling. Pulling Ernest in for a quick kiss, he knew he'd done the right thing. The statue was special, but his time with it was up now. Someone else would care for it. 

Thinking back to the day he figured out what the object was, Ernest remembered River's reaction to it. Even though it wasn't a real dog, it was obvious that she liked it and would hold it dear. Ernest was just glad that he thought of fixing it the week before. 

After he apologized to Lucien the other night, he'd found all of the broken pieces to the sculpture. Ten pounds of superglue later and it was as good as new, or decent looking enough. River didn't seem to mind. 

"Yes, the wedding is back on!" Briar cheered. 

"Can somebody tell my wife that I miss her!" they heard Weddingmaster Quinn cry. 

"Okay, I don't want listen to this shit anymore. I'm gonna stop him," Carmensita remarked, heading over to the crowd. 

"And we will get our dads," Hazel added. "Ready, Ernest?" 

"Let's have a fucking wedding." 

 

 With no actual bride in a wedding between two men, you had to improvise the music selection. "Here Comes the Bride" was not acceptable in this case, so they picked the next best thing. Ed Sheeran. Not really him, this was a budget wedding. They just hooked up a stereo system and played a medley of his cheesiest love songs.  

It was much more affordable and their only other option was to have Ashley play the piano and sing. She was an aspiring musician, having auditioned for The Voice three times already and never making it through. They realized that having her sing at her ex-husband's wedding would be wrong for so many reasons and she'd probably end up singing a shit ton of Adele. 

Nonetheless, she was still invited, sitting in the second row on Craig's side, behind his parents. Their breakup wasn't anything to write home about, they were still friends so it made sense to invite her to the new happiest day of his life. Plus, she had to drop off the girls and it was a long drive down the street. Why not stay? 

Hugo, on the other hand, wanted nothing to do with his ex, so there was no space for him on his side. Ernest wasn't in disagreement to this. His other dad was like a distant memory at this point. It wasn't that he didn't care about him, he would always be his father, but they were distant now. He didn't make the effort so why should Ernest? That's all. 

Right here, right now; he was with someone who cared deeply for him and who he cared deeply for. 

 

River sprinkled flowers along the aisle way, holding tightly onto her new doggy friend. Taking her seat near her mother, the next phase of the wedding was set to commence. 

As Hugo and Ernest entered the backyard, arm in arm, all eyes were on them. Making their way up to the front, Ernest distanced himself off to his position on the side, while Hugo stood center before Weddingmaster Quinn.  

Not long after, Craig emerged, with Hazel and Briar each linking onto either side. Soon, both men were facing each other, wearing the biggest smiles. The picture was now perfectly set. Craig and Hugo actually knew what the other would be wearing, but still wanted to abide by the superstition of not seeing each other. 

They spent a lot of time figuring out their wardrobe. They technically had matching suits, just opposite colors. Both with a white under shirt and black bow tie, the rest of their outfits were different. Craig's suit jacket was white with a black collar and black buttons. Hugo wore a black jacket with white buttons. Another contrast was their pants. Hugo wore white pants while Craig wore black, making it a proper mix. 

The outfits were a success, garnering awed expressions and jealous looks. Mostly from Mary, who was set on somehow making today about her new transformation. Little did she know, this reinvigorated feeling she had would soon come crashing down. 

"Dearly beloved," Weddingmaster Quinn began. "We are gathered here today in the presence of these witnesses, to join Craig Cahn and Hugo Vega in matrimony commended to be honorable among all; and therefore, is not to be entered into lightly but reverently, passionately, lovingly and solemnly. Should anyone here present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in, let them speak now or forever hold their peace." 

"Wait!" 

Horrified expressions filled the audience as they turned around to see two men running up to the crowd. Nobody could believe their eyes. It didn't seem possible.  

"What the hell are you two doing here?" Mary questioned, now on her feet. 

"Sorry, we're late," Joseph Christiansen apologized, holding Robert Small's hand. 

"But you two are supposed to be..." she trailed off, pulling her phone back out. Looking over the article, she saw it was updated. The two men in the accident had been identified and their names were unfamiliar. "What?" 

"We would have been here sooner, but this guy always takes forever," Robert giggled, his head now resting on Joseph's shoulder. 

"Yeah, we had some trouble down at the dock. I apparently parked my yacht in a non-yacht zone," Joseph explained. "But it's all taken care of." 

"Ugh, this is stupid anyway," Mary shouted, storming out of the backyard. 

With no one running after her or really caring that she was absent, the ceremony continued on. Joseph and Robert sat at the back, each sitting on a different side, but still staying connected by holding each other's hand. 

"Now, if there are no other distractions, let us continue to marry these two wonderful men," Quinn announced. The crowd cheered, a little off put by the recent developments, but now focused on what they really came here for. 

Weddingmaster Quinn began with a quick prayer. It wasn't anything excessively religious, just a way to set the tone of the wedding. He spoke of love and hope. Which led to his next spiel about marriage in general. He reminded the couple of the seriousness of the solemn vows they would soon make and the new life they are creating together. 

It was shockingly powerful; Quinn actually knew what he was talking about and wasn't a complete mess. Tears were already starting to form and they weren't coming from him, surprisingly. Both of the grooms were doing their best to hold it together, as well as the twins. It was Ernest who was wiping his eyes.  

Next came the vows and soon there wasn't a single dry eye in the area. 

Craig was first. 

"Bro, um... Hugo, with all my love, I, Craig Cahn take you to be my husband. I will love you through good and bad, through joy and sorrow, through the shitty and shittier. I will be understanding and trust in you completely. Together we will face all of life's experiences and share one another's dreams and goals. I promise I will be your equal partner in a loving, honest relationship for as long as we both shall live. Is that cool with you, bro?" 

The twins were now showing emotion for the first time, really feeling what their father was saying. Ernest wasn't ready for this, but it was Hugo's turn. Of course, he went for a more traditional approach. 

"I, Hugo Vega, pledge my undying love to you, Craig Cahn, as I invite you to share my life. I promise to be kind, unselfish, respectful, and trustworthy so that together, our dreams of a beautiful future can come true. To this end I call upon all present to witness that I take you, Craig Cahn, to be my husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, til' death do us part. And yes, it's cool with me, bro." 

Next came the ring ceremony, which took a while to commence since nobody could keep their composure. Ernest being affected the most. Hugo brought him into a tight embrace. Even he couldn't hold it together at this point. On the other side, the twins fell into a big hug with their father, River running up a few seconds later. 

Once he could see clearly again, Ernest handed his father the ring. The twins did the same to Craig. With a few more of the same words, both men placed a ring onto their counterpart. Weddingmaster Quinn was now beginning to fall apart, but held himself together to get to what everyone was waiting for. 

"By the power vested in me by 'getordainedfree.com,' I now pronounce you husband and husband," he declared. "You may now kiss each other." 

In a moment, where time seemed to stop, Craig and Hugo shared their first kiss as a married couple. It was actually the first time that Ernest had ever really seen them kiss. Surprisingly, he wasn't totally grossed out. A roar of applause erupted from the audience, meaning they felt the same way. 

"I now present to you Mr. and Mr. Cahn-Vega!" Quinn announced, as the two men finally separated. Craig and Hugo held up their arms as the cheesy love songs started playing once again. River tossed a few more flowers as both men ran down the aisle. 

 

Not long after, the reception was in full swing. Ernest brought the last of the food out to the tables they set up near the garden. The playlist had now changed from lovey dovey to trashy party music. The grooms didn't seem to mind as they inappropriately danced all over each other.  

"Hey," Lucien greeted, finally meeting back up with Ernest. They hadn't seen each other since before the wedding when they were playing Nancy Drew. 

"Hey," he said back, giving him a kiss. 

"The ceremony was fucking beautiful. I'm glad I got to experience it with you." 

"I'm glad you're here too. Now, you can make fun of me for however many times I cried." 

"I would never," Lucien giggled. "To your face." 

"Wow, thanks." 

"I mean, I'm one to talk. I was a complete tragedy at my dad's wedding." 

"That's comforting," Ernest laughed. "But I bet it wasn't as fun as this one. I mean, my dad is twerking right now." 

"Actually, we had acrobats and fire dancers." 

"Really?" 

"Yeah, my stepdad is hella extra." 

"Okay, it's time for the throwing of the bouquet!" Ashley shouted. 

"Bouquet? We didn't have a bouquet," Hugo spoke up. 

"I brought one for you," she cheered. 

"Honey," he said to Craig. 

"Sorry about her," Craig apologized. "She just wanted to be funny." 

"It's a tradition. One of you needs to throw it!" she demanded. 

"How about we both do it?" Hugo suggested, winning a smile from Craig. 

"Everyone, gather around!" 

Ernest and Lucien exchanged worried glances, trying to escape the crowd of desperate wedding goers. Carmensita and the twins even joined in, determined to seal their fate for a successful relationship. Nobody would budge, meaning the boys were trapped. 

"Alright, here we go." 

As the bouquet slowly flew into the air, Ernest's heart began pounding again. Would he actually try to obtain it? He was already in place and there was no escape. What would it mean if he tried? What would it mean if he acquired it? He wasn't ready to think about that, keeping his hands down. Lucien did the same. Instead, their hands found each other. Ernest then closed his eyes, not wanting to know the results. 

"Damn it!" Carmensita yelled, as it flew too high for her. "This was my moment." 

"Wait, you didn't get it?" Ernest asked, opening his eyes back up. "Who did?" 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" a voice called all the way from the back. The bouquet had flown way past the crowd and near the snack table. The twins started to laugh when they realized who it was.

"No way," Ernest gasped. Apparently, the bouquet had somehow landed in the hands of Chris Christiansen, while he was hitting on that girl from earlier. 

"Yeah, I'm not ready for this type of commitment. I thought this was casual. Bye," the girl stated, strutting away. 

"Wait, babe! I wasn't even trying to... ah, shit," Chris shouted, throwing the bouquet on the ground and stomping out of sight. 

"Now they are mine!" Carmensita cheered, picking up the bouquet. 

"Well, that's enough excitement for the rest of my life," Ernest joked. 

"You wanna dance?" Lucien inquired, once the music started playing again. This time it was much slower and more romantic. Ernest accepted. Pressed up against each other, the two felt like the only people there.  

Obviously, they weren't the most important. Craig and Hugo eventually took center stage, having their first official dance. The other couples now stood off to the side. 

Ernest could see a strange expression on Lucien's face. He wondered what it was about. "Everything okay?" 

"Yeah, I'm just thinking about how much I love you." 

'Love.' Was it too soon to use that word? Maybe not. Ernest knew exactly how he felt. "I love you, too." 

"That makes me feel better about what I'm about to ask you." 

Oh no, this couldn't be it? Could it? They had narrowly avoided that bouquet for a reason. He couldn't be asking that. It was way too fast, even Lucien had to know that. The suspense was killing him. Now Ernest just wanted him to say it.

"I was wondering," Lucien finally uttered. "I was wondering how you felt about me asking you to move in with me." 

What a relief. That wasn't what he thought he was gonna say, but then realized what he did say. Living together was a big step in a relationship. Were they really ready for that? 

"Um..." Was all Ernest could think to say. 

"I know it's a big decision, but I think it's the right one. Your dad just got married and when he and Craig get back from their honeymoon, the last thing they'd want to think about is anything other than each other. I know Craig's kids have to come over weekly, but you live with them every day. This is a good way to give them that space. You won't be too far. You can always visit. Plus, you're an adult now. It only makes sense." 

Lucien was saying all of the right words and making fairly decent points, but Ernest wasn't sure if the timing was right. Sure, Hugo would love to have a house to himself and Craig, but he and his dad were in a really good place. He wouldn't mind a few more months with him. 

Speaking of a few months, that's basically how long Ernest has had this new life. He still had a long way to go to become a more independent person. Lucien would understand that.  

As for Lucien, the two had known each other for years and that bond hasn't been broken, but as couple, they had only officially been together for a week. They were both still so young, they would have time.  

Then Ernest thought about that elephant that they avoided talking about. If they lived together, they'd share the same bed. It didn't guarantee sex, but the pressure would be on. He still wasn't sure if he was ready for that. 

Of course, there are positives to moving out. Independence from his father, getting to see his boyfriend every day, probably having pizza for every meal.  

After weighing both the pros and cons, Ernest knew what his answer would be. 

"No." 

"Huh?" 

"Lucien, we obviously care deeply about each other, but I'm not ready for that step. I know that we've both been waiting so long to be a couple and it's finally happening and we want to spend every possible second together, but there is no need to rush. We have all the time in the world. If it's meant to happen, it will happen," Ernest told him. Disappointed with the response at first, Lucien ultimately accepted it and understood his reasoning. They share another kiss. 

"Well, I'm not sure what to do now," Lucien spoke again. "My boyfriend just rejected me." 

"We can dance," Ernest suggested. 

And they did.  

With the weight of the previous conversation gone, the two were able to find comfort in each other. Ernest decided to rest his head on Lucien's shoulder. It was silent for a second, but it was a good silence. A comfortable silence. Then their eyes met once more. 

"I love you." 

"I love you, too." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I'm typing this, I can't seem to think of the right words to say. I still can't believe it's finally over. We're at the end. Officially. I've thought about this moment and about how it would feel and it still doesn't seem real. It may seem hard to believe, but there was a time when I could never finish a story. I am proud to say that I have now completed another one. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for sticking with me through this whole thing. Your overwhelming support is what got me through it and I appreciate you all immensely. I would like to thank my friend Auggie for getting me into the game in the first place. It's become such a huge part of my life and I honestly don't know what my life would be like without it. 
> 
> I wrote this story because I saw a connection between these two characters. It's funny because they're not even the important part of the game. That didn't matter to me, they still caught my attention and they're honestly my favorite characters. I wanted to write this story because I felt the need to represent an honest and realistic relationship between two young queer men. I feel like most love stories with queer characters are misconstrued and over-sexualized and I wanted to end that misrepresentation. I hope that people were able to see and understand that. 
> 
> It pains me to say that this is the last time I'll be connecting with you. I don't have anything else planned for this site. My focus will be elsewhere. Once again, I wanted to thank all of you for your continued support. I've read every single one of your comments and I truly appreciate the feedback. Maybe someday we can reconnect, be it through my other projects or in the distant future, something on here. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed the conclusion to Pizza Rolls Topped With Oregano. 
> 
> Have an amazing #20GAYTEEN ~


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